


Guns 'N Roses Vol II (No Rest For The Wicked)

by PAPERSK1N



Series: Guns 'N Roses [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Angst, Drug Use, F/M, Fake AH Crew, GTA V AU, Gang AU, Gen, Injury, M/M, Murder, Psychopathic Behaviour, Violence, Weapons, gang crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3346529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERSK1N/pseuds/PAPERSK1N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after the Fake AH Crew parted, and Michael already needs help. Gavin is convinced Lindsay is out there, and won't rest until he learns the truth.</p><p>What starts as some innocent searching suddenly turns deadly serious, and with their own shady pasts being dragged up left right and center, and the crew-mates can't help but long for the simplicity they faced pulling off a simple heist.</p><p>A.K.A</p><p>Guns N' Roses 2: The Quest for Lindsay Tuggey</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> GNR Sequel hype! All kudos + comments are super appreciated, updates on Fridays <3
> 
> Thanks.

The room was silent except for the squeaking of the swinging punch bag and the harsh thudding of Lindsay’s gloved fists as they beat into it over and over. There was something oddly satisfying as, with each firm punch, the bag would go flying, swinging so high it almost flipped. Sometimes, she would imagine _his_ face hanging there, instead of the black leather bag. _Him_ , pulling that stupid smirk with the patronising squint in his eye. Every time he smiled, called her _sweetheart_ or _honey_ , her fist would clench a little tighter, and the bag would fly off the handle again.

“Tuggey!” came a call. Lindsay stopped, grabbing the bag between her gloved fists to stop the violent swinging, and rested her forehead against it, catching her breath back. “What?” she called back bitterly as she turned, and looked at the woman on the other side of the glass. Her name was Arryn, Lindsay knew that of course, but it felt too _humane_ to give her a name. If that woman was anywhere near human, she wouldn’t be _there_ , after all, on the other side of the glass.

“We’re sending a newbie in.” the woman said through the mic. “Just to survey her skills. We want you to spar with her for a few minutes, help her out if you can.”

Lindsay straightened her posture, and took off her boxing gloves, throwing them to the floor. She nodded once, and turned her gaze to the door as she heard it slide open. A girl walked in with wide eyes and curly blonde hair, which hung from the top of her head in a tight ponytail. She smiled meekly at Lindsay, and waved her fingers. Lindsay awkwardly waved back, and the girl jumped as the doors closed behind her. Lindsay looked back to Arryn, behind the glass.

“You may begin.”

Lindsay adjusted her stance, fully catching her breath back. She reached behind her to tighten her ponytail, and watched as her opponent did the same. The blonde haired girl stood with her feet shoulder width apart, a stern, determined look taking over her angled face.

Something passed between the two for a second, before they erupted.

The blonde flew at Lindsay, with one precise hit to her collarbone. Lindsay stumbled, taken aback for a second before she pushed her arm out in front of her, blocking the blonde’s next attack. She retaliated with several well positioned punches to the girls face, following up with one to her gut.

They went back and forth for a few more minutes, expertly swift kicks and jumps and hits at each other, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted. Lindsay could feel blood trickling down her face from her hairline, and the blonde’s hairband had snapped, blonde curls tumbling down to her shoulders and framing her face. She came at Lindsay one last time, but the redhead swept her to the floor in an expert move, and placed her foot down on the girls throat, fixing her to the ground.

At this, a piercing beep filled the room, and Lindsay counted down in her head from three, before taking her foot off of the girls throat. She offered her hand to take, helping her back to her feet.

“Nice one.” The girl said, reaching up to give Lindsay a high-five. Lindsay stopped and frowned for a second, confused- but reciprocated the high-five anyway. The girl grinned.

“I’m Barbara.” She announced. Lindsay nodded.

“Lindsay.”

“Nice to meet you, Lindsay.” Barbara said. Lindsay frowned again and tilted her head slightly. This girl was… different from the other people she had occasionally seen milling around this facility. Sure, this girl was new but… the kind of _people_ who came there, murders and assassins, weren’t usually so… _cheery_.

“You okay?” Barbara asked, bringing Lindsay out of her thoughts. Lindsay blinked, and then nodded.

“Yeah. Uh, your high kick is really powerful, but make sure to fully extend your leg when delivering it. Makes it work twice as good.” she said. Barbara nodded, clearly taking the advice in. Lindsay noticed the door light changing from red to green, and with one last nod at Barbara, walked towards it.

“Thanks- Lindsay.” Barbara said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Maybe I'll see you round?”

Lindsay nodded. “Sure. Maybe.”

oOo

Every day, for Lindsay, was solitude. She knew she wasn’t trusted to go outside anymore, so she spent her time training and working and sleeping and eating. Very few other people stayed there for long, so Lindsay didn't bother trying to make friends.

She walked through the corridors to her room, her door-handle scanning her handprint before lighting up green, and allowing her to enter. What she was expecting, was to write todays entry in her diary, and then go the fuck sleep.

What she wasn’t expecting, was Barbara, to be sitting cross-legged on her bed, chewing gum and leafing through a magazine. The blonde looked up as Lindsay walked in, and smiled.

“Hey.” She greeted cheerfully. Lindsay’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She looked between Barbara and the door, and then back to Barbara.

“How did you get in here?” she asked. “Every door in this building is locked. All of them, and believe me- I’ve checked.”

Barbara scoffed at this, grinning. “Nothing’s ever locked, Lindsay. Not really.” She said, cryptically. Lindsay didn't move from where she sat, just continued to stare at Barbara sceptically.

“Where are you from?” she asked, after a moment of awkward silence.

“Canada.” Barbara replied. Lindsay shook her head, and laughed.

“No, like where are you _from_? What _agency_?”

Barbara shook her head, and shrugged. “Nope. No…agency.”

“You’re free-lance?” Lindsay raised an eyebrow. Barbara shook her head again and Lindsay stepped forwards. “Well, what are you then?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Barbara said. “I’m not anything. I’m just… Barbara.”

“Right…” Lindsay said. She moved to sit down on the other end of her bed, feeling anything but trusting towards the blonde. She could’ve been anything from an idiot to a test, and Lindsay wasn’t so sure which she’d prefer.

“Do you like it here, Lindsay?” Barbara asked. “Because, to be honest, it isn’t… really what I thought it was.”

“What did you think it was?” Lindsay asked, frowning. Barbara shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just… a place to train, to better my skills and stuff. I really wanna get out there, and show the world what I can do but… I’m a little sloppy I guess. A little head-in-the-clouds, you know? When I was asked to come here I-”

“Wait, you were _asked_ to come here? And you _agreed_?” Lindsay asked incredulously. Barbara nodded.

“I didn't realise it would be like this.” She admitted, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her head against the wall. “I’ve been here for two weeks, alone the whole time. Countless tests and exercises… I guess I just didn't realise it was going to be such a…-”

“Prison?”

Barbara nodded. “Yeah,” she visibly deflated “a _prison_.”

“That’s exactly what it is.” Lindsay replied. She relaxed a little, pretty certain that Barbara wasn’t exactly any kind of threat. She unclenched her fists, and crossed her legs, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. “A fucking _prison_.”

“How long’ve you been here?” Barbara asked. Lindsay shrugged.

“Some days it feels like six months. Some days it feels like six years. There’s no clocks, anywhere. No calendars. Hardly a way to tell if its morning or night, to be honest. But I think, roughly, I’ve been here a year.”

“Have you… you know, been _outside_?” Barbara asked, sitting up a little and showing her attention. Lindsay smiled a little to herself, and looked down.

“Yeah.” she said. “I have. I’ve had two jobs. Same target. And I’ve fucked it up both times. I got in trouble for it too… _he_ didn't exactly let me off easy.” At Barbara’s frown, Lindsay shrugged her hoodie off her shoulders, and displayed the short scar on her shoulder blade. Barbara gasped, Lindsay just gritted her teeth at the memory, running her finger over the mark lightly, before pulling her shirt back up. “I don’t think I'll be sent out on any more jobs anytime soon.”

“What happened? How’d you screw up?” Barbara asked.

Lindsay sighed, zipping her hoodie back up. “My target… was my ex-boyfriend. Him and a group of my old friends, they’re part of this crew back in Los Santos. The Fake AH Crew.”

Barbara let out a soft laugh. “What’s so fake about them?” she asked. Lindsay laughed.

“Nothing. Just… the AH Crew was already taken.” She replied. Barbara laughed again, out loud, and Lindsay couldn’t help but giggle with her. Then she sighed, and shook her head.

“I couldn’t kill him.” she admitted. “I could never kill him. The first time I fucked up, I met him in a bar. We started drinking… well, he _thought_ I was drinking. I was supposed to… poison him but… I couldn’t do it. Even though we weren’t together and whatever, he’s still one of my best friends, and I couldn’t do it to him.”

“What happened after that?” Barbara asked. Lindsay frowned.

“I don’t know.” She admitted softly. “It’s almost like I've blocked it from my memory. I don’t remember anything except waking up here again. Part of me thinks it might have been a dream, to be honest.”

There was a pause, before Barbara asked, “What about the second time? When you got… hurt.”

Lindsay smiled at this. “I went rogue.” She said. She sat up, like she was proud of her decision, and her lips fell into a sloppy smirk. “I was supposed to just kill Michael but, I couldn’t. I was gonna disappear, fall off the map and say goodbye to this place forever. But then, I got a call from Jack, one of the other guys in the crew. They wanted my help, for a bank heist and I… I couldn’t say no. I ended up taking the wrap for them, giving myself up to let them all escape. I’d have rather spent the rest of my life in jail than be taken back here. I blacked out after the cops got me, and I woke up back here. And that time… he didn't let me off so easy.”

“Shit.” Barbara breathed. “That’s so fucked up.”

Lindsay just shrugged, and said nothing. There was a long silence, that could’ve lasted anywhere between a minute and an hour, before Barbara let her legs down, and sat forwards on her knees.

“We should get out of here.” She whispered.

Lindsay laughed. “There's no way out of here, Barbara. Believe me, I would’ve found it- we’re stuck here, until we’re told we can leave.”

Barbara shook her head. “Fuck that!” she replied. “I say we can get out of here! Get back out to the real world! He can’t keep us here!”

“Sure he can.” Lindsay sighed. “Look at me, Barbara. I’m still here. He can do whatever he likes, apparently.”

Barbara lurched forwards, and clutched Lindsay’s arm tightly. “Look at me!” she said, locking eyes with the redhead. “I say, we can do this!”

“Barbara.” Lindsay protested. “You don’t leave unless instructed. I’ve already had two strikes. One more, and I’m out- for good!”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Barbara asked. Lindsay laughed once, short and sharp.

“I wish.” She sighed.

“We’re getting out of here.” Barbara announced, standing up. “I don’t know how, not yet- but I promise you, Lindsay… we’ll get out of here.”

Barbara didn’t wait for a reply, turning her back on Lindsay and walking directly out the door. Lindsay heard the door click locked behind her, and smiled. She didn't know why, but something made her believe Barbara’s promise.

****

“Okay, I got Chicken Chow-Mein for you, spring rolls _and_ prawn crackers on the side, and I got crispy duck for me. Oh, and I got you that prawn toast bullshit you like so much.” Michael announced, placing the Chinese take-out bag on the kitchen counter, and began to take out the silver containers. Gavin didn’t answer from his seat on the couch, furiously tapping away at his laptop.

“Gavin!” Michael snapped. The brit didn't look up, but nodded anyway, mumbling “Yeah, great Michael.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I also ordered you a massive pile of shit with piss sauce, if that’s okay?”

“Yep.” Gavin replied, voice barely audible over the clicking of the keys on the keyboard. Michael sighed, abandoning the food, and walked over to Gavin. He snapped the laptop shut suddenly, almost snapping Gavin’s fingers off, and the Brit let out a squeal of protest.

“Michael!”

“Gavin, you gotta eat man.” Michael sighed. He didn't even feel angry, and his voice was soft, and laced with concern. Gavin just frowned.

“I’m fine Michael.” He insisted, reaching for his laptop again. But Michael was quicker, picking the computer up, and tossing it across the room to the other sofa. Gavin pouted and stood up.

“Fine.” He grumbled, walking over to the kitchen counter of their open-plan apartment. He dished himself up a miniscule amount of food onto a tiny white plate, and sat at the counter, nibbling on a slice of prawn toast. “I’m not even hungry.” He said, as Michael walked over and sat beside him, heaving plate already prepared.

“Gav, you gotta listen to me. I’m worried about you.” Michael admitted. Gavin didn't even look at him, just shrugged, and stared down at his plate. He played with his food, pushing it around the plate with his fork. “You don’t eat, you barely sleep. It’s been months.” he sighed. “Lindsay, she… Lindsay’s _dead_.”

Gavin dropped his fork, and it clattered loudly against the plate. “You don’t know that for sure, Michael.” He replied.

“Yes, I do. I was there, remember? You were all groggy and borderline unconscious from the blood loss. But I wasn’t. I was focused on you, but I still saw her. She was surrounded by cops, and then she collapsed. She’s dead Gavin. Just accept it…” Michael reached out to place his hand on Gavin’s arm, but the Brit flinched at his touch.

“It doesn’t make sense, Michael.” He said. “There was no shot, no sound. One minute she was up and the next she was down.”

“She was _shot_ Gav.”

“You didn't see that!” Gavin shouted. There was a moment of silence between the two, Michael frowning and Gavin sighing, looking down to the ground. “I’m sorry.” He said. “You’re probably right, but… something just tells me that there’s something else going on. You know she was acting weird around all of us, I’m not the only one that noticed- there was something else going on… and maybe there still is.”

Michael sighed at Gavin’s downtrodden expression, and bit anxiously at the skin of his thumb. “What if I called Kerry?” He asked. Gavin sat up a little at this, looking up from the floor. “If she’s alive… that’s _if_ , I’m sure he probably knows, or could find out. If Jack and Geoff are still in contact with him… maybe we could try? Worth a shot, I guess.”

Gavin beamed. “Michael.” He drawled, bouncing forwards to wrap his arms around his _boi_. Michael laughed, but hugged him back tightly anyway, arms locked around his waist. Gavin kissed his cheek, and Michael grinned.

“No promises that it’ll work, okay? Geoff and Jack might not even speak to Kerry anymore you know.”

“I know.” Gavin said, smiling, as he moved back to his own seat.

“And you’ve gotta start eating again.” Michael chided. “Otherwise I’m not even gonna call.”

Gavin responded to this by shoving a forkful of greasy Chinese food into his mouth, and chewed heavily. Michael smiled and rolled his eyes, chewing on a forkful himself.

“Alright. Guess I better fucking pick a burner phone.”

-

Geoff and Jack were sitting on the couch in their apartment, playing video games together, when the phone rang. Jack frowned, and Geoff raised an eyebrow curiously.

Because it wasn’t their _actual_ phone. It was their _private_ phone. Nobody had that number… Nobody that wasn’t trusted, anyway.

And Jack and Geoff had both learnt that hard way that not many people could be trusted.

Jack reached for the phone hesitantly, and inspected once, almost as he was expecting some kind of explosive to be attached. Satisfied that the phone hadn’t changed since the last time it was used, Jack picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Jack?”

Jack frowned. “Who is this?” he asked, flicking the phone to loudspeaker as Geoff cautiously leant forwards, listening in.

“It’s Michael.”

Jack glanced to Geoff, who simply raised an eyebrow. He swallowed. “Prove it.”

“Cinquecento”

Jack sighed, relieved, and Geoff smiled. “Hey buddy!” he called from his seat.

“Hey guys.”

“What’s up Michael? How’ve you and Gavin been?” Jack asked.

“Good, yeah we’ve been good. We’re in LA at the moment actually. Gavin wanted to see Hollywood.”

Jack and Geoff smiled.

“But that’s not why I’m calling. I need a favour.”

“What’s up?” Geoff frowned. Michael sighed, and his voice lowered.

“Just… it’s Gavin. Ever since… ever since the heist, he’s been convinced that… that Lindsay is still alive. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep- he’s a fucking wreck. In exchange for him taking a second away from his fucking computer and actually finishing a meal, I promised him I’d call you and see if you have any contact with Kerry. See if he might know anything.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. We’ve got Kerry still. He’s a little… under the radar, trying to smooth things over with the cops and not get arrested for several felonies but- yeah, we could call him. Would you wanna meet up and do this?”

Michael sighed, relieved. “Yes! Thank you Jack! Even if Lindsay’s… dead, at least it’ll give him a bit of fucking peace. I think he…” there was a pause. “I think he blames himself. And he’s not gonna be able to move on until he knows the truth.”

“We understand.” Geoff said. “Meet us back down at 636 say… tomorrow?”

“Deal.” Michael said. “See you then.”

“Bye Michael.”

The phone hung up, and Geoff and Jack exchanged a worried look. Jack sighed. “Guess I should start packing.”

-

Gavin slept through most of the flight, and Michael was just relieved to see the Brit actually getting some sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were finally starting to fade as they made their way from the airport down to 636 and slowly, he looked like he was coming back to life.

With the Adder back in LA, Michael and Gavin slipped into Gavin’s shitty purple car, and started their drive up to Geoff’s house. Michael didn't complain once that the car was a piece of shit, and Gavin got a few more hours sleep. Everyone was a winner.

Michael’s phone rang when he was about half an hour away.

“Jack.” He answered.

“Hi Michael- we called Kerry, and he’s on his way down to 636 now. Me and Geoff are already here.”

“Cool.” Michael replied. “We’re on our way. We’ll be about a half hour.”

“No Adder?” Jack questioned. Michael rolled his eyes at the smirk he could practically hear in Jack's voice.

“No.” he admitted. “Driving Gavin’s shit-wagon. Didn't think it was worth shipping the Adder down when we’ve got this fucking lean mean racing machine, right?”

“You couldn’t legally clear it, could you?”

“Nope.” Michael laughed. “But hey- crewmobile’s still at 636, right?”

“Yep.” Jack replied. “She’s a little dusty from sitting in the garage, but she’s here.”

Michael smiled. “Good. Not a scratch on her, okay?”

Jack laughed. “Don’t you worry about it, Michael. See you soon.”

“Bye Jack.”

oOo

Michael shook Gavin awake as they pulled up the drive of Geoff’s house. Gavin’s eyes opened slowly, and at first, he tried to turn back over, mumbling under his breath “five more minutes.”

Michael just laughed. “We’re at Geoff’s, dumbass.”

Gavin sat up, and rubbed his eyes. “Oh. That was quick.”

“For you maybe- you slept the whole thing! I’ve been driving for two fucking hours.” He laughed. Gavin just smiled, and leant over, kissing his boyfriend on the corner of the mouth. “Thank you Michael. For all of this.”

Michael smiled. “You’re welcome.”

The two climbed out of the car, and walked up to the front door. Michael slipped his key out of his back pocket, and turned it in the lock, opening the door. They walked through the corridor, until they reached the kitchen.

Geoff was sitting at the breakfast bar, nursing a Whiskey. Jack was at the table, sitting next to Kerry, who was typing on his laptop.

“Hey.” Gavin said, announcing his and Michael’s presence. He found himself swooped into a tight hug by Geoff, and giggled as his friend ruffled his shorter hair.

“Look at you!” Geoff exclaimed, releasing him as Michael greeted Jack and Kerry. “Dude, did you get fucking _taller_?”

“Geoff, I’m twenty-bloody-five, not seventeen.” He laughed.

“You just look older.” Geoff admitted, smile softening. He stroked the short facial hair around Gavin's mouth. “Grown a bit of peach fuzz too.”

“Oi! It’s a bit more than that, don’t you think?”

“Dude. That’s weak.” Jack commented from the other side of the room. Gavin rolled his eyes. “Well- you’ve got like the most perfectly groomed fucking beard ever- so your vote is uncounted and unfair!”

His pout lasted for a second, before he broke into a grin, and moved over to Jack, hugging him tightly. The gent laughed. “I hate to admit it, but I have missed you Gavin.”

“I haven’t.” Kerry joked, as Gavin pinched his cheeks tightly. “Hey! I’m doing you a favour, aren’t I?”

“Right! Yes!” Gavin exclaimed, moving into the chair next to Kerry. He leant over and looked on his laptop. “What’ve you found?”

“Not much.” Kerry admitted, and Gavin's gaze grew concerned. “But I’ve been speaking to some… contacts of mine. I ran Lindsay’s description to them, and one of them sent me back this.”

It was a grainy image, possibly taken from a security camera of a woman, outside the Los Santos police station, getting into a sleek, black car. She had red hair, cuts and bruises on her face, and was dressed all in black. The picture was slightly pixelated, but it was clear enough for them.

“Holy Shit, that’s Lindsay!” Michael said, sipping from the beer Geoff had given him.

“I knew it!” Gavin exclaimed. “I knew she was alive! Where is she now?!”

Kerry squirmed. “Uh. Well, I ran the cars plates through the DMV database, and the last places it was seen was driving through Portland.”

“Ohio?” Jack questioned. Kerry nodded.

“And then, the next image I could find was this.”

A photo filled the screen of the same car, obviously abandoned on the side of the rode, encased in flames. Gavin frowned.

“And that’s it?” he asked. Kerry sighed and nodded.

“That’s it. My best guess- she’s somewhere in Ohio. Possibly in Portland”

“Well- Ohio’s a pretty fucking fair-sized state.” Michael pointed out. Kerry shrugged.

“I’m sorry guys. It’s the best I could do.”

“Thanks.” Gavin said, placing his hand on Kerry’s shoulder. “You did well. We know a hell of a lot more than we did an hour ago, Kerry.”

Kerry smiled. “No problem. But I do have some other good news for you.” he said, typing something quickly. “Now, be surprised- I have been keeping up on you guys.”

“Big surprise.” Jack said sarcastically. Kerry laughed.

“And-I found a certain Puerto Rican and a certain Georgian, happen to be staying in Portland, right now.”

Gavin frowned. “Who?”

Everyone narrowed their eyes at Gavin. “Ray and Ryan, dumbass!” Michael shouted. Gavin pouted.

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to know Ryan’s from Georgia!”

“He’s mentioned it like five times!”

“No he hasn’t!”

“Guys.” Geoff snapped. “Gavin’s stupidity aside, are you sure it’s them?” he looked at Kerry, who blushed.

“Uh. Pretty sure.” He clicked a few times, and the next image was Ray and Ryan, seen through the window of the building they were staying in, clearly making out. Kerry cleared his throat, and then exited the image.

“Okay. So it’s them.”

 Jack reached for his phone.

“I guess I better call Ryan. See if they know anything. But thanks Kerry.” He handed Kerry an envelope full of money, which he accepted with a nod and a smile.

“Pleasure as always.”

-

Ray was sat up, resting against the headboard of their bed, playing Tetris on his Ds, as Ryan rested between his legs, faced up to him, smirking.

“You know, it’s creepy when you do that.” He pointed out. Ryan chuckled.

“No it’s not.”

“Yes. It is.”

“No it’s not.”

“ _Yes_ , it _is._ ”

Ryan responded by pressing a light kiss to Ray’s abdomen, making his breath hitch. “Ryan.” He breathed. “Cut it out. I’m actually doing really well.”

“You always do really well.” Ryan pointed out, kissing around Ray’s stomach a few more times. Ray closed his eyes for a second, and rested his head against the headboard as Ryan kissed further up, to his chest, and then at his neck.

“You’re such a fucking tease.” Ray mumbled, letting his DS fall from his hands down onto the bed. Ryan grinned, nipping at Ray’s neck playfully.

“You say that like you didn't already know.”

He lifted his head to kiss Ray on the lips, and was just working his mouth open when the phone rang on the bedside. Ryan’s face turned to look at it, and Ray sighed.

“Dude. Leave it.” He whined, bucking his hips up slightly. Ryan reached for the phone, and looked at the ID.

“It’s Jack.” He said. Ray frowned.

“ _Pattillo_?”

Ryan nodded. He accepted the call, an then quickly pressed the phone to Ray’s ear. “Here. You talk.”

Ray held the phone to his ear, and glared at Ryan, who had a mischievous smirk on his face before his head lowered, leaving a kiss across Ray’s chest. Ray willed his breath not to hitch and glared at Ryan again, before levelling his voice enough to answer the phone.

“Jack.”

“Ray? You okay?” Jack sounded concerned. Ray’s eyes fell shut as he felt Ryan’s hand brush across his crotch.

“You bastard.” He mouthed.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He panted to Jack.

“Are you sure? Is- is this a bad time?”

“No.” Ray glared at Ryan. “This is fine.”

Ryan didn't want to listen, and slowly started to run his fingers over Ray’s body, gently caressing every single part of him.

“Oh. Great. Listen, we need your help.”

“With what?” Ray asked.

“Lindsay’s alive.”

“Lindsay’s _alive_?!”

This made Ryan stop. He frowned, and sat up, taking the phone from Ray and pressing it to his own ear. “What do you mean Lindsay’s alive?” he asked Jack. Ray pouted at being thrown out of the conversation.

Jack was speaking but it was muffled through the phone speaker. Ryan was nodding but wasn’t saying anything. Ray smiled to himself, and slowly let his hands fall down under the covers. Ryan glanced at him, questioningly, and Ray just shrugged, feigning innocence.

Ryan’s facial expression changed rapidly as Ray gave a swift tug to his dick.

“No- No Jack I’m fine.” Ryan quickly lied, after his breath had hitched rapidly at Ray’s movements.

“I’m gonna murder you.” he mouthed at Ray, who grinned.

“No you're not.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s neck and using his own strength to pull himself up. He grinded against Ryan slowly, and hissed at the feeling.

To credit him, Ryan barely blinked. But Ray could see his eyes watering and his fists clenching as Ray continued. This went on for a few minutes until Ryan hung up the phone, tossing it off the bed and swiftly pinning Ray down.

Ray laughed. “Payback’s a bitch.” He shrugged. Ryan smirked.

“I'll show you payback.” He said, lifting Ray’s legs so that his knees rested by his chin.

-

Afterwards, panting, Ray turned over to look at Ryan. “What did Jack want then?” he asked. “What was all that about Lindsay?”

Ryan sighed. “They think Lindsay’s alive. And they think she’s here, in Portland. They want us to keep a look out, ask around.”

“Holy shit.” Ray breathed. “So where are we gonna look?” he asked. Ryan sighed.

“We’re not.” He said. Ray frowned.

“What the fuck do you mean, we’re not?”

“I mean, I’ve already looked.” Ryan admitted. “Months ago, right after it all happened I thought- I hope that she wasn’t… I knew she wasn’t in prison, she just- disappeared. I spoke to everyone I knew. She’s off the radar, completely, and she sure as hell isn’t here in Portland.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Ray asked, turning over to be closer to Ryan, resting his face against Ryan’s bicep.

“I’m gonna call Jack back, tell him everything… and then I guess we’ll head down to 636 and all work it out together.”

“All of us? Even Gavin and Michael?” Ray asked, trying to hide his excitement. Ryan smiled.

“Yeah. I know how much you’ve missed them both. I know it isn’t the same, talking over Xbox live and skype than hanging out in person.”

“You know me too well.” Ray mumbled, smiling into Ryan’s arm. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang get back together. Kerry helps, until he slips up.

Ryan and Ray arrived as they always did, in the dead of the night with little to no warning. Geoff had always been a light sleeper, and was immediately on alert when he heard footsteps in his house.

He walked down the stairs, gun in hand, only to find Ryan and Ray standing the in the kitchen, Ray eating a bowl of cereal and Ryan crunching on an apple. Geoff sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You assholes scared the shit out of me.” He admitted, walking forwards. “Still. Welcome back!”

They were greeted with hugs and keys like always, before they retreated up to Ray’s room, leaving Geoff to get back to sleep. Neither Ray or Ryan had ever been a fan of admitting weakness, but they were both shattered after all the travelling, and were grateful to crash down in a familiar bed.

The morning came with more greetings, Gavin and Michael hugging Ray so tightly he could hardly breathe and Ryan catching up with Jack over a plate of bacon and eggs. They all gelled back together in an instant, like they always had.

It was Jack who went through their plans, as always explaining that they really didn't know much, and needed to wait on more information from Kerry. This meant free time, which was spent catching up with each other and playing video games, recording stupid videos that would never be seen by anyone else, before, a few days later, Kerry’s call came.

“Hey. Listen, I’ve found very little, and I need a break. Do you guys want to go down to a bar or something?”

Geoff and Jack stayed behind to do some research of their own, but Ryan, Ray, Michael and Gavin headed out in one of their more casual cars down to the bar.

It had been a long time since any of them had just been out to a bar to… _be out at a bar._

Kerry was already there, waiting for them outside as they pulled up on the street. They walked in to the fairly empty bar as a group, ordering drinks and sitting down in a booth. Kerry looked at Ryan and Ray’s matching coke cans.

“You guys didn't want beer or anything?” he asked.

“Don’t drink.” Ray said, opening his can.

“Neither of you?”

“Nope.” Ryan shook his head.

“You do drink, Ryan!” Gavin exclaimed, sipping from his own cocktail, which was bright orange and had a myriad of objects spilling from it, like lights and umbrellas. “I’ve seen you drink!”

“When?” Ryan asked.

“Geoff’s birthday!”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I'll have a beer occasionally. That’s it. Happy?” he teased. Gavin just pouted at him, mumbling “you guys are no fun.” under his breath. Michael slung an arm around Gavin’s bony shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Gav.” He said. “I'll get bevved up with you.”

He clinked his beer bottle against Gavin’s glass, and took a swig. Gavin giggled, and rested his head against Michael’s shoulder. Ray rolled his eyes, and turned to Kerry.

“So, how’ve you been man? It’s been a while…”

Kerry shrugged. “I’ve been alright. Just… trying not to get arrested, you know- the usual.” The group laughed. “Seriously! It’s not as easy as it looks, this double life shit. I have to keep up with you guys, all whilst avoiding suspicion from my own co-workers!”

“Come on,” Michael laughed. “You’re way smarter than those idiots. If they had half the brain cells they should, they would’ve caught you by now.”

“Well,” Kerry shrugged, “The LSPD aren’t exactly geniuses, but come on, they’re not _stupid.”_

“Oh woe is bloody _you_ ,” Gavin laughed. “You're not out on the front line like we are!”

“It’s harder than you think!” Kerry insisted with a laugh _“_ It’s hard being a crookedcop. _”_

“ _Kerry?”_

Everyone turned at once. The blood drained from Kerry’s face as he turned to the voice, and saw Miles Luna, standing with a beer in his hand and a heartbroken expression on his face.

“Miles, I-”

“You’re… you’re a _criminal?”_

“ _Shit,_ Miles, I- I didn't-”

Miles turned, and ran straight out of the bar. Everyone stood up at once, and Ryan’s fists clenched.

“We can’t let him get away. He’s seen our faces.”

“No!” Kerry knew what that meant. He tried to step in front of Ryan, but the gent was small, and pushed him out the way as he walked out of the bar, slipping his gun from his pocket.

“Ryan.” Ray chased after him, clutching his arm. “Leave Kerry to sort it out. It’s his mess.”

“What if he tells the police?”

Ray smirked. “We can handle the cops. There’s no need to execute a man because he over-heard something! If that was true, everyone in that bar would need to be dead”

“Now you say that…” Gavin scratched the back of his neck. “I _do_ have a little C4 on me.”

Ray turned. “No.” he scolded. Gavin crossed his arms like an annoyed child, and kicked the ground with the toe of his shoe. “Spoilsport.” He muttered.

“I'll talk to him. Just… _please,_ go back to 636. And don’t _kill_ anybody on the way.” Kerry pleaded

“Fine.” Ryan sighed, clicking the safety back on and tucking it back into his pocket. Ray held onto his hand tightly, and the four of them left, walking off towards the car.

oOo

Kerry ran through the snow, every step making him wonder just _how_ he had passed the physical exam to become a police officer in the first place. He ran around a few blocks before he found Miles, who was also panting.

“Shit. Never doing that again.” He panted.

“Arguing?”

“ _Running.”_

Kerry laughed, but Miles couldn’t meet his eye. He held his stitch tightly, and sighed to the ground.

“Please don’t tell anyone, Miles.” Kerry pleaded. “I-The Crew, they’re nice guys. And, come on- I _can’t go to jail.”_

Miles laughed. “You’re a criminal, Kerry! It’s in my job title to just arrest you now, or at least turn you in!”

“You don’t have to do that. Please, Miles- please don’t.”

Miles stopped, and looked up at Kerry. His happy-go-lucky expression was long gone and eyes were weighted with something Kerry had never seen them hold before.

“I’m not gonna turn you in.” he sighed. “I promise.”

Kerry’s face relaxed. “Thank you, Miles. Seriously- thanks.”

“But I can’t… live a lie.”

Kerry frowned. “W-What do you mean?” he asked. Miles didn't reply at first, just shrugged with his hands in his pocket, unable to meet Kerry’s eye.

“Miles, what are you saying?”

There was a long, pregnant pause, before Miles spoke.

“I'll see you around, Kerry.”

He turned his back, walking off into the street, leaving Kerry standing there alone, a strange, empty feeling in his stomach.

oOo

The next day, Kerry walked into work with two coffees balanced in one hand, and his phone in the other. He wanted to make things up with Miles- it would be pretty awful if things were awkward between them. They were close friends, practically best friends, as well as being co-workers. They shared similar interests in animation and video games; Miles has been the first real friend Kerry had made in Los Santos.

Kerry nodded in greeting at a few people, before settling down into his chair. He looked over at Miles’ desk, which was empty. He frowned.

“Chief?” he called. Burnie turned around.

“Shawcross. What can I do for you?”

“Where’s Miles?” Kerry asked, nodding over to the empty desk. Burnie’s eyebrows rose.

“Didn't you hear?” he asked. Kerry frowned.

“Hear _what_?”

“He quit.” Burnie shrugged. “It was completely out of the blue. Quit last night. Gone to… pursue some animation dream in Texas.”

Kerry was silent. His hand went to his mouth, covering his shock. Burnie sighed.

“Yeah, I thought it was pretty crazy too. Still, life goes on, right? Least we don’t have to pay him severance.” He laughed. “Now go on, get back to work, kid.”

oOo

The entire crew were sitting around in the living room of 636 when the call came. Michael was playing against Ryan, who was sitting with Ray on the floor, whereas Michael was stretched out on the sofa, head in Gavin’s lap. Jack was in the armchair, typing on his laptop, and Geoff was rifling through the fridge.

“You’re cut off to four beers a day, remember!” Jack called. Geoff frowned, muttering ‘ _bullshit_.’ under his breath before reaching into the back of the fridge for a bottle of water.

Jack laughed, and was about to speak, as his cell phone begun to ring. He frowned, but his face softened as he noticed Kerry’s name flashing on the screen.

“Kerry.” He answered.

“ _Jack_.” Kerry sounded different. He sounded deflated. “ _I…I’m sorry Jack_.”

“Kerry, are you okay?” Jack sat up. The group looked around at him, concerned.

_“Jack… I’m sorry but… I can’t help you guys anymore.”_

“What do you mean… you can’t help us?”

“What?” Geoff stormed over. He snatched the phone, and clicked it on speaker. “Kerry, what the fuck is going on?” he demanded.

“ _Geoff. I’m so sorry. I’ve got to leave. My exit card- when I joined you, you said I’d always have one chance to leave. An exit card. And this is me using it._ ”

“Wha- Kerry… why?”

Kerry paused. “ _I-I’m sorry. People’s lives got changed- ruined, because of me- because of **this**. I can’t do this anymore.”_

“Kerry, don’t-”

_“I’m sorry Geoff. I’m so sorry, but we had a good run, didn't we? We had some good times.”_

“So why stop them?” Geoff asked, voice cracking. “Why stop the good times?”

_“It’s not the same anymore, Geoff. It’s… too dangerous this time. I can risk my job but… I can’t risk my friends. I’m sorry.”_

The phone clicked off, and the call ended.

“Well, shit.” Ray sighed. “That just fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

Geoff didn't say anything, just walked back towards the kitchen. After a few seconds, they heard the clinking of bottles in the fridge. Jack could tell, by the sound of his movements that Geoff had pulled out a beer, bit the lid off with his teeth, and drank the whole thing.

The rest of the group remained silent, except Jack, who sighed.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kerry's loss sets their research back a significant amount, but help from an unexpected source emerges.

A few weeks later, the group were still reeling from Kerry’s loss. He wasn’t _dead,_ heck- sometimes they’d still see him, on patrol in a car or walking down the street, but it sure as hell felt like he was.

Gavin had taken over most of the search, sitting alone through the day and night with his laptop open, eyes wide and pupils blown as he searched camera after camera, hacking into any record he could find.

Michael would be by his side at times, making sure he ate, and sometimes even slept a little, but for the most part, Gavin was very unresponsive in conversation, barely stretching for a yes or a no, or a quick explanation. Michael tried to engage him, for around a week, before he gave up.

He was about to bring Gavin some breakfast and a glass of orange juice, which he had crushed a few sleeping pills into, hoping it would lull the Brit to sleep, when his phone rang.

He frowned, entering the kitchen and setting Gavin's breakfast down next to his overflowing ashtray, and pulled his phone out. The number was unknown.

He was debating whether to answer it when Ryan and Ray entered the room, eyes heavy from sleep and bloodshot from what Michael could only guess as weed, judging by the scent on them.

“Guys.” He nodded for them to join him. His phone had stopped ringing now, but only waited a few seconds before it started again, the words BLOCKED in big, black caps. “Nobody has this number.” Michael said. “Only us. Nobody else.”

“So who the fuck is calling?” Ray asked, straightening his glasses and frowning at the phone.

“Fuck if I know.” Michael said. He looked to Ryan, who was frowning deeply.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to answer it.” He said, just as the phone stopped ringing. They were silent for a few seconds, before it began ringing again. Michael sighed.

“Just fucking answer it, the ringing’s driving me _mental_.” Gavin snapped, surprising them. Michael looked at him, eyes sunken and heavy as he rested on his hands. Gavin took a sip of his juice, and winced. “Michael, I love you boi- but stop trying to drug me.” He said, pushing the juice away. “You better not have fucked up my fry up with any of that.”

“Sorry.” Michael said, a small smile playing on his face as he watched Gavin start to eat for the first time in days. The phone stopped ringing and began again.

“I’m answering it, fuck it. Someone get Jack, just in case.”

Ray left the room as Michael pressed the phone to his ear, before sitting down opposite Gavin. Ryan sat beside him.

“Hello?”

_“Hello? Michael Jones?”_

It was a feminine voice, Michael frowned.

“Who is this?”

_“My name is Arryn Zech.”_

“Never heard of you.” Michael said, putting the phone on loudspeaker and pushing it into the middle of the table, just as Ray re-entered the room with Jack and Geoff beside him.

 _“Good. That means I’m doing my job right.”_ She laughed.

“How the fuck do you have this number?” Michael asked

_“We’ve got our ways.”_

“Who's’ we?” Ryan asked.

_“James Haywood? Or sorry, Ryan, as you prefer? I was told you were the smart one.”_

Ryan frowned. “Where the fuck did you get that name from?”

_“Like I said, we have ways.”_

“What the fuck is this about?” Michael asked. “You’ve got my number, I get it. What the fuck do you want? Who are you?”

_“I told you, Michael, I’m Arryn. Were you even listening?_

“Fuck off!” Michael snapped. “You know what I mean.”

_“It’s alright, I’m just teasing- I hope you don’t have that kind of attitude with your boyfriend, sheesh.”_

Michael’s eyes flashed to Gavin, who frowned at the mention of his name. His gut twisted. “Don’t you fucking talk about him, or I swear to God-”

_“They sure weren’t kidding about your temper.”_

“Cut the bullshit.” Geoff interrupted, placing his coffee cup surprisingly calmly on the table. “What the fuck is this about? Getting us all riled up for no reason- what’s your fucking game?”

_“Geoff-”_

“Cut the crap, or I'll fucking hang up.”

There was a pause.

_“I have information for you.”_

Michael lent in closely to the phone, like he could decipher the call just by looking at the phone. “What kind of information?” he asked.

_“Information about Lindsay Tuggey.”_

oOo

It was the same bar they had sat in with Kerry, that Arryn met them in. they entered as a unit, each pair of eyes searching around the room for who they could be meeting.

“Well, you guys don’t look suspicious at all.” A voice said. They all looked towards the bar, where a pale girl stood in a fitted black dress, her dark hair hanging by her shoulders. She was pretty, that was clear, but she was also surprisingly… _normal._

“Arryn, I presume?” Geoff asked, stepping forwards. She smiled and nodded, exchanging her hand for him to shake. Geoff didn't take it, and she smirked.

“Jesus. He wasn’t kidding about how _paranoid_ you are.” She commented. “Here. I got us a booth.”

She led them to the back of the restaurant, where a booth had actually been reserved, big enough to fit all six of them. Arryn sat at the end of the boot on a hard wooden chair.

She pulled a small diary out of her bag.

“So,” she looked around to each of them individually, her eyes lingering on Ray for a second, who looked away. “I work… for a man.” she explained. “He runs an institute, for people who want to get out into our world. Taking people out, working in gangs, that kind of thing… We have certain rules, to _follow_.” she paused, and took a heavy folder from her bag. “And sometimes… people don’t follow them.”

She pulled out a few pieces of paper, and placed them on the table. The only thing that caught anyone’s eye was what looked like an ID photo of Lindsay, aid next to some documents.

“Lindsay was… selected for our program. She was… resistant at first but- she was _persuaded_.”

Michael practically bristled with anger at her words, and Gavin’s grip on his arm was violent. Even Ryan’s teeth ground against each other, matching Geoff’s frown and Jack’s folded arms.

“We sent her on… assignments, to kill you.” she nodded at Michael, who sat up in shock. “She didn't… comply. She even _slept_ with you, we had to make her forget that.”

Michael froze, feeling Geoff, Ryan and Jack’s eyes rest on him. Gavin looked down at the table, and Ray bit at the skin of his thumb nervously.

“You fucking did _what?”_

“It was a while ago.” Michael spat, bitterly. He glared at Arryn. “I-I knew something was up with her… I tried to… _apologise,_ and she acted like she didn’t even _know_ , I-” he stopped himself, shaking his head. Gavin looked to him.

“It’s alright.” He whispered. “We’ll get them.”

“And that brings me to our next order of business.” Arryn said. “We have Lindsay. We were hoping to keep that fact… under wraps but- you guys’ve been… poking around for too long. Whatever hacker you were working with- he got close…” they all tensed at the mention of Kerry. Arryn watched their movements, and smiled to herself. “Sensitive subject?”

“Cut to the chase.” Jack said.

“The man I work for… you may be familiar with him.” she looked to Ray first, and then up to Geoff. “Joel Heyman.”

“ _Joel Heyman?”_ Geoff and Jack both exclaimed. Everybody turned to them, just in time to miss the way Ray tensed in his seat.

“You _know_ the guy?” Gavin asked. Geoff nodded.

“He and… a few others- we used to knock around together… back in the day.” Geoff explained. He looked to Jack worriedly.

“Yes.” Arryn said. “He talks of you… fondly, sometimes.” Then she looked to Jack. “Sometimes… not so fondly.”

“Shit.” Jack mumbled under his breath.

“He wants you to meet him. He wants to talk.” Arryn said. “How’s Friday?”

“What? He just wants… to _meet_ us?” Ryan asked. “That’s not suspicious.”

Arryn shrugged. “I’m just the messenger, I’m afraid. I'll text you the address. Come unarmed.”

Before they could ask any more questions, she was collecting her things, and standing up.

“Wait!” Michael stood up. Arryn turned back to him. “Lindsay… is she… safe?” he asked.

Arryn’s expression remained stoic. “For now.”

OoO

The drive back to the crew house was silent, as worry set in on every single one of them. They didn't know this Joel Heyman, except for Geoff and Jack apparently, so nerves tinged each one of them. Gavin’s hand clutched at Michael’s tightly, and he leaned his head against his boy’s shoulder.

Ray didn't so much as touch Ryan the whole journey, head rested against the cool glass of the window, deep in thought.

They pulled up on the drive, and Jack silently unlocked the door. Ray pushed past him to get through the door, running up the stairs without a word.

Jack frowned, and turned to Ryan. “What’s his problem?” he asked.

Ryan frowned as he looked up the stairs, Ray already having disappeared up to his room. “I don’t know.” He admitted. He looked back down the stairs and to his crew-mates. “And I don’t like not knowing.”

Nobody said anything, as Ryan left and ascended the stairs. Geoff and Jack walked off into one of the backrooms, discussing the situation with worried expressions and matching low voices. Gavin just sighed, and wrapped his hand tightly in Michael’s.

“I- _shit,_ I really hope she’s okay.” Gavin sighed, as they both began walking outside, to their room. “I feel like it’s all my fault.”

Michael shook his head. “It’s not your fault Gav,” he said, closing the outside door behind them. “I should’ve believed you sooner. We could’ve had her back by now.”

“I just worry about this Heyman bastard. The way Geoff and Jack were, as soon as they head his name… worrying stuff.” Gavin shuddered. Michael nodded.

“I know. And Ray too, something’s up with him. As soon as she mentioned that Joel guy, he started acting weird.” Michael pointed out, unlocking the door to his and Gavin’s outside room.

“D’you think Ray knows him?” Gavin asked, walking into the room. Michael shrugged, unzipping his jacket and tossing it to the floor.

“Maybe. There’s a lot we don’t know about Ray, people seem to forget that. He’s been in this business a long time- since he was a kid really.”

They undressed as they speculated, before climbing into bed. Michael wrapped an arm around Gavin, who turned on his side, leaning in.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’m gonna be getting much sleep tonight.” Michael sighed. Gavin nodded.

“I know. I’m worried, Michael. All this… seemed, to easy, didn't it?”

“Way too easy.”

“Which can only mean that something bigger’s coming. Something way, way bigger.”

OoO

Ryan walked into Ray’s bedroom, to find the Puerto Rican sitting by the window-sill, nursing a joint and looking up at the stars. The situation felt all too familiar to him. Memories of the previous year flashed through his mind. The things he said… the things he had _done_.

He had been better, since leaving. Ray had helped immensely, holding him when he had nightmares, never taking his crap. Sometimes, in his sleep, Ryan would be so caught up in a dream, he’d lash out as he woke up. Ray was strong enough to fight back.

But that didn't make him feel any less guilty when he saw a bruise or a scratch.

Ray would always shrug it off. It didn't matter. He didn't care. They had each other. Nothing had changed. Nothing would _ever_ change.

But then sometimes, when they climbed into bed and Ryan’s eyes began to fall closed, Ryan would see the smallest glimpse of fear in Ray’s eyes.

“If you’ve got something to ask, could you get on with it?” Ray asked, snapping Ryan of his chance. He sighed, and took his jacket off, before sitting down on Ray’s bed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” Was Ray’s short reply. Ryan didn't have to know Ray nearly as long and well as he did to know that Ray was probably the opposite. In a big group, or a crowd, Ray could blend in. He could disguise himself and his emotions.

But not to his friends, and _never_ to Ryan.

“Talk to me.” Ryan said. Ray leant his head against the wall.

“It isn’t important.”

“Obviously it is.”

Ray smiled, and shook his head. He took another drag. “Trust me, Ryan. You don’t want to know.”

“I'll be the judge of that, don’t you think?”

“You’ll over-react.”

“Damn right I will.” Ryan responded truthfully. “Because I love you. And you’re an idiot.”

“Tell me about it.” Ray rolled his eyes. “Always have been.”

“So tell me then, idiot,” Ryan smiled softly. “What's going on?”

Ray flicked his joint out the window.

“I know Heyman.”

“A lot of people do, apparently.” Ryan shrugged. “So what?”

Ray laughed. “No, I _know_ him.” he said. Ryan frowned.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. Ray grit his teeth, and ground them quietly against each other. Ryan shivered at the sound.

“I-I was a kid. It was stupid.”

“Obviously it wasn’t, if you’re still upset.”

“I’m not upset!” Ray snapped. Ryan narrowed his eyes, and Ray sighed, swallowing and leaning back against the wall. He inhaled the air around him slowly, calming himself.

“Sorry.” He said quietly. “I-I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Ryan asked. Ray looked over. Their eyes locked.

“With my life.” Ray’s eyes were wide and glossy. He meant it, Ryan could see that. It was more than a promise. It was a _belief._

“Then you can tell me anything, Ray. I’ve done awful things, and you know that. I always tell you. _Always.”_

“I know.” Ray sighed. He rested his face in his hands. “I-This is different. I was just a _kid_.”

“Ray.” Ryan sat forwards. “Please. Tell me.”

The two locked eyes again. Ray sighed.

“I-uh, I was eighteen. Just graduated high school. I had nothing better to do… I- I got involved in a gang, back in New York. And Joel… he was the leader.”

_He’d fucked up. He’d fucked it all up._

_He was supposed to mug the boy on his way home from work, but he’d screwed it up. He’d got a cut across his cheek and lost forty dollars for his trouble, and now, he was going to have to explain it all to the boss._

_Saying he was shit scared was an understatement. He was lead to the door of the apartment flanked by two higher-ranking members, both with their fair share of scars. Ray’s hand went to his cheek briefly. It had stopped bleeding, but there was still the possibility it would scar._

_One of the men knocked on the door. There was a pause, before a stilted voice called out._

_“Come in.”_

_“Good luck.” The other guy whispered to him. “Don’t be scared to be scared.”_

_Ray swallowed thickly and nodded, saying nothing. He opened the door, swear clinging to his palms. He opened the door, and stepped through, into…_

_A shit hole, really._

_It was a normal enough apartment. Papers and documents littered every available surface and some were stuck on the walls. There was a half drunk six pack of beers and a drained pot of coffee on the coffee table._

_‘The boss’ was sat back in a leather chair, feet propped up on a desk and a cigarette in his hands as he lazily typed on his laptop. He looked up as Ray walked into the room._

_“Narvaez, right?”_

_Ray nodded and the boss sighed._

_“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked, with a smile on his face and wicked glint in his eye. This was Ray’s only chance to beg for, possibly, his life. He’d heard the horror stories, passed through the gang like urban legend. The boss was a ruthless man. It was very rare that he accepted apologies._

_“Sir, I’m so sorry, I-”_

_“Joel.”_

_Ray looked up. He frowned. The boss had stood from his desk, and walked around it, leaning onto the front so he could stand near Ray. His hair stuck up like gravity didn't affect it, and he had a lopsided smile on his face._

_“Call me Joel.” He outstretched a hand. Ray eyed his hand cautiously for a second._

_“Go on. I’m not gonna fucking rip your arm off.”_

_“Sorry.” Ray laughed nervously, shaking Joel’s hand. “I-You never know, I guess. I’m Ray”_

_Joel smiled wide. “Good to meet you Ray.” He picked his cigarette back up off the desk. “How old are you?”_

_“Eighteen.”_

_“Thought so.” Joel nodded. “And… you had a little mishap?”_

_His eyes raked Ray’s body slowly, before settling on the cut on his cheek._

_“Careful,” he mused. “That’ll get infected if you don’t clean it.”_

_“It-it was Mugging gone wrong. The guy… overpowered me. Then he called the cops and- I had to run for fucking miles, and-”_

_“Sh.” Joel stepped forwards, placing a finger at Ray’s lips._

_“Stop there.” He said. He stepped back, moving his finger from Ray’s lip. He looked Ray up and down, eyes once again slowly dragging over his petite body._

_“Well, I can see how you were overpowered. You’re tiny! How much do you weigh, like one hundred pounds?”_

_“One twenty.”_

_“Adorable.” Joel was still drinking him in with his wild eyes, a small smile playing on his face. “Who put someone as small and **cute** as you onto muggings?”_

_“I-Uh…” Ray blushed. “I don’t know. I just do what I’m told.”_

_“Good kid.” Joel smiled. “But, here, I'll let you in on a secret.”_

_He stepped forwards slowly, like a cat or a snake, stalking its prey. He leaned in, close enough to Ray’s neck that he could feel Joel’s hot breath and smell the cigarette smoke._

_“Never do what you’re told. You’ll never come out on top.”_

“We were close, after that.” Ray continued. “He-uh, he was nice, actually. He was a sweet guy. A little crazy, mind you.”

“Sounds like you have a type.”

Ray smiled at Ryan, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. Just, he was good to me, you know? Took me places, like the empire state building. Bought me fancy clothes and took me to even fancier parties. Kissed me in central park. Romantic, couple shit- like, sometimes, I’d forget who we actually were. We were just two guys and… we were in love.”

A dreamy look had come upon Ray’s face as he recounted his experience. Ryan’s fists clenched in a fit of jealousy, but he bit his tongue, willing Ray to continue.

“God, one time,” Ray laughed. “He took me ice skating. Around Christmas time. I kept slipping but- he never laughed. Not in like, a mean way, anyway. He took me to movies and diners and stuff…” Ray took a pause, before continuing. “He told me I was _beautiful_.”

_“Morning beautiful.” Came Joel’s sleepy, raspy voice at his ear. Ray couldn’t stop himself from grinning, turning over in Joel’s arms so he could face him._

_“Ray Narvaez Jr, are you **blushing**?” he asked with a smirk. Ray’s cheeks simply reddened further, and he lowered his head. Joel laughed. “What’s so embarrassing?”_

_“Just you.” Ray shrugged. “You always call me that… beautiful. I don’t know, it’s just weird. You don’t call guys beautiful.”_

_“I do.” Joel said. “If they are, anyway.”_

_“You really think that?” Ray asked._

_“Of course.”  One of Joel’s hands came up, and stroked across the side of Ray’s face. “You’re beautiful.”_

“I know it’s cheesy but… he was my first love, you know? Like… I thought I was going to be with him forever. I could… I wouldn’t have ever seen myself with anyone else. He really… _understood_ me.”

“Was he better?” Ryan suddenly asked. “Better to you then I am?”

Ray sighed. He refused to meet Ryan’s questioning gaze.

“Don’t ask me that.”

“He was. Wasn’t he?” Ryan sighed. Ray looked to him.

“No. he wasn’t _better_ … neither of you were. You’re… he was just- _different_. Okay?” Ray said. “I loved him then. I love you now. Understand?”

“Sure, you love me now. But what’s to say you won't love him again as soon as we meet with him?” Ryan asked. He was being petty, and he knew so, but he couldn’t help but feel anger and jealousy’s he looked at his lover’s whimsical expression.

“Ryan.” Ray sighed, exasperatedly. “Don’t do this. Just don’t.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?” Ryan laughed, bitterly. “He’s always going to be your first love? What’s stopping you? Why did you even split up in the first place?”

“He was no good for me.”

“And _I_ am?”

There was a long, drawn out silent pause. Ryan smiled with his fists clenched.

“You know what the saddest part is?” he asked. Ray looked up. “You can't even deny it.”

“We’re over, Ryan. Me and Joel, we’ve been over for a long time. I haven’t seen him, haven’t spoken to him… I’ve barely thought about him since it all happened. We broke up when I was barely twenty.”

Ryan still didn't feel particularly convinced, and Ray could tell. They were good together like that. They had communication.

Something that he and Joel could never quite get right.

“We argued, constantly.” Ray argued his point. “He would say protective, I’d say possessive. I’d say red and he’d say blue. We could never agree on _anything_.

“The gang disbanded, and we took off. We travelled all the way to Seattle. Joel had all these ideas, these fucking facilities to get people into lives like ours. I didn't want him to do it… I said- I thought it was too risky. Too dangerous.” Ray sighed, and lit up a cigarette.

“He, uh- he said that I had to choose. If I was going to be with him or against him. So I packed my shit, and I left. He tried to contact me, for months. But I ignored him. And that’s why I’m fucking worried. Because Joel was absolutely the kind of guy who’d a grudge.”

“I’m sure he’ll find it somewhere in his heart to forgive you.” Ryan drawled.

“Oh, what’s your fucking problem, Ryan? Yes, I loved someone before I loved you. I loved him, _unconditionally_. He was my _everything_. But now, things are different. It’s me and _you_ , Ryan. We’re a team- and I’m not gonna fucking trade you in because my ex is back in town!”

Ray was standing now, arms crossed and cigarette lit, pacing the floor space in front of Ryan, who simply frowned stubbornly.

“ _Promise_ _me_.” Ryan pleaded. “Promise me that you don’t- that not even the tiniest part of you, still loves him.” Ray froze, as his and Ryan’s eyes met. “Promise me that.” Ryan repeated.

There was a silent tense moment between the two. Neither of them dared breathe. And then, eventually, Ray hung his head, pressing his hand to his forehead, and sighed.

“I knew it.” Ryan stood up. “You can't, can you? You can't promise me that.”

“Ryan, I-” Ray’s voice was quiet, and strained. “Ryan, I love you-”

“-but you love him too.” Ryan sighed. “It doesn’t matter how much you love me… a small part of you is always going to love him still.”

And with that, Ryan turned, and left the room.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its late i know i am v v soz oxo

Ryan felt sick with guilt as he laid in the bed that had once been his, what felt like a lifetime ago. It was strange, how he was feeling oddly nostalgic for the apparent simplicity his life had held a year ago.

If you had spoken to him then, he would’ve said it was Hell and nothing about it was easy. But from the present perspective, lying alone in a cold empty bed with a guilty churning in his stomach, re-joining the crew seemed like the easiest thing in the world.

Ryan turned on his side, and stared at the empty space beside him.

How long had it been since he’d slept in a bed alone? He couldn’t remember.

Ray wasn’t exactly the most affectionate person, content to curl into himself and play on his DS or Xbox rather than comply to Ryan’s demand for cuddling, but he had always liked the presence of Ryan in the room. So that sometimes, he could glance up from his screen, and look next to him, and Ryan would be there, cleaning a gun or sharpening a blade, or even simply sleeping.

Sometimes, when he was half-awake in the middle of the night, listening to the oddly relaxing click of buttons next to him, Ryan would feel Ray pause. The bed weight would shift as he leant over. Sometimes, he'd lie, for ten minutes or less, next to Ryan. His face would be so close that Ryan would be able to feel his breath.

Other times, he’d simply reach out and stroke his long tanned fingers through Ryan’s hair or across his face, in a silent, intimate display of affection. Ryan knew that Ray would probably instantly deny any recollection of the events, so he’d keep his mouth shut just as tightly as his eyes, quietly leaning into and enjoying Ray’s touch.

It was hard now, trying to get to sleep without him. Ryan laid awake for hours, only drifting off into short half-hours of fitful rest, before he was awake again. He smoked half a deck of cigarettes, watched mindless TV without absorbing any detail. He wasn’t quite awake, but he wasn’t really asleep either.

Morning came with the slow rise of the sun and the sound of life, emerging from the lower floors. Jack was an early riser, and often dragged Geoff up with him, Gavin and Michael never far behind them.

Ray and Ryan were usually last, both being night owls, hating the morning. They’d come down together, Ray falling asleep at breakfast against Ryan’s chest instead of eating his cereal.

That morning, Ryan walked down the stairs and Ray was already there, spooning cereal into his mouth. He looked up as Ryan entered the room, and half opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Noting the dark circles under Ryan’s eyes, he said nothing, and stared back into his cereal.

The tension between the two was noticeable immediately, but nobody said anything. Ryan and Ray were both very unpredictable characters. There was a fifty percent chance neither would react and then a fifty percent chance they'd both flip out and things would get smashed, and Geoff wasn’t really in the mood to shop for new china.

That was just how Ryan and Ray worked.

“Sleep okay?” Geoff asked, slipping Ryan a mug of coffee. Ryan simply glared at him, and pushed the coffee away.

“Get me a whisky. Please.”

Geoff raised an eyebrow. “Dude. It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

“Never stopped you before.” Ryan countered.

“Alright.” Geoff shrugged, pouring Ryan the shot. Everyone watched on silently, except Ray, who looked away, and out of the window as Ryan tilted his head back, and necked the shot.

“Hit me again.” He said, tapping the glass against the counter. Geoff approached him with the bottle. “Make it a double.”

“I’m not a damn bartender.” Geoff snapped, glaring at Ryan as he poured the next shot.

“Then leave the bottle.” Ryan swallowed half the glass’ contents.

“I thought you didn't like alcohol.” Jack mumbled, sipping from his own coffee. Ryan looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t.”

The tension after that was heavy as the group sat in silence. Nobody wanted to look at Ryan, but it was hard not to, by the way he was swallowing down shots like they were water.

The tension was broken, by the doorbell ringing.

They all immediately tensed, looking down the hallway and towards the door. Jack silently pulled a handgun out of one of the kitchen drawers, and tossed it to Geoff.

Geoff looked to Ray. “Come with? In case I need back up.”

Ray sighed, and shifted out of his chair. He reached into the cupboard above him, and pulled out a small gun, before advancing with it low behind his back to the door.

He stuck behind Geoff, who looked through the eyeglass. He stiffened as he saw through to the other side, and looked to Ray.

“Who is it?” Ray whispered.

“ _UPS_ ” Geoff whispered back, voice equal parts suspicion and confusion. “Nobody knows this address. _Nobody_.”

“Open it.” Ray nodded to the door. “I’ve got your back.”

Geoff nodded silently, before reaching forwards and opening the door. The delivery man was young, and held a clipboard in his hand. He looked bored if anything, and not very threatening.

“Mr Ray Narvaez Jr?”

Geoff only had the door open a crack, so only he was visible. He frowned, but nodded.

“He’s here.”

“Special delivery. Sign here.” He reversed the clipboard, and held out the attached pen to Geoff. Geoff signed with a fake name (as he was accustom to) and opened the door a crack more, handing it back.

“Where’s the package?”

“Here.” The man leant out of view, and emerged again shortly after, holding in his hands…

A wrapped basket of… _flowers_? It was hard to tell, but that was what it looked like. _Flowers._

“What the…” Geoff mumbled under his breath as he was handed the basket.

“Have a nice day, sir.” The delivery man muttered, before turning and walking away. Geoff shut the door, and fully stepped back in the house.

“These are for you.” he said, still bemused as he handed Ray the sealed basket.

“What the fuck?” Ray mumbled, following Geoff back into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Geoff laughed, walking in with Ray trailing behind. “Ray’s got an admirer.”

“What the fuck is that!?” Michael asked, watching Ray set down the basket on the table.

“Apparently,” Ray unwrapped the bow, and pulled back the layers of tissue paper, revealing a bunch of red roses, tried together with silk ribbon attached to a small label. “…roses?”

“Who bloody sent those!?” Gavin asked.

“I…” Ray shrugged, reaching for the label. He turned it over in his hands, Gavin hovering over his shoulder.

“ _To Ray… the past is the past… no hard feelings… love… **Joel**?”_ Gavin read aloud. “Who the fuck is _Joel?”_

Ray was silent.

“Not… not _Joel fucking Heyman?”_ Jack asked. Ray looked at him, guiltily for second, before glancing back down to the floor.

They were all startled by the sound of a glass smashing. Heads snapped back to look at Ryan, who’s chest was heaving as his fists clenched by his side.

“Not my good crystal!” Geoff whined.

“What the _fuck_ Ryan!?” Michael demanded. Ryan didn't answer, simply pushed past the group, and out of the kitchen. A few footsteps and a jangle of keys later, the front door was heard slamming.

“What’s his fucking problem?” Geoff asked. Ray just rested his head in his hands.

“Ray?” came the questioning tone of Jack’s voice. “Why is Joel Heyman sending you flowers?”

Ray was still silent, simply resting his head in his hands. He knew his crewmates, rightly, had a thousand questions, but he really wasn’t in the mood for answering any of them. He leant up and looked at the flowers.

“I should really get these into some water.” He said, standing up and holding the basket.

“What, so that’s it? You’re just gonna fucking walk away?” Geoff demanded, as Ray advanced towards the door. “You're not going to answer anybody’s fucking questions?”

“Just leave him, Geoff.” Michael sighed, as Ray silently left the room. “He’ll talk when he wants to talk.”

“For fucks sake.” Geoff sighed, leaning against the counter and looking at the smashed glass on the floor. “I’d have a drink, if Ryan hadn’t done it all.”

“I hope he isn’t driving.” Gavin muttered, looking out into the hallway.

“Would he really be that idiotic?” Jack asked. The four of them exchanged tense looks.

“I guess we should probably split up and look for him then.”

oOo

Gavin found him first.

They had always been good friends, Gavin and Ryan, in the early days of the crew. There was something about the innocent wonder in Gavin’s eyes and the reckless abandon of consequence in Ryan’s that made them work well together.

Ryan saw the psychopathic tendencies blurred with a carefree attitude in Gavin’s eyes that he had once seen in his own.

Ryan was always up for whatever crazy scheme Gavin wanted to get into. He was the logic that structured their plans, making the ridiculousness that Gavin had only ever dreamt into a reality.

Gavin found him sitting up by the VINEWOOD sign, resting against the ‘O’ and smoking a cigarette. He rested his bike by the ‘D’. Ryan didn't even look round.

“Give us one then?” Gavin asked, stepping forwards. Ryan reached into his pocket, taking out the packet of cigarettes and handing it over. Gavin took one out and lit it, leaning against the other side of the ‘O’.

“And take that stupid fucking mask off, it’s only us.”

Ryan sighed, pulling off the grey skull mask, shaking his hair around his face. It had been growing long, and he really would’ve got it cut by now, if Ray didn't like it so much.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, or just brood in silence?” Gavin asked.

No answer.

“Alright then,” Gavin shrugged, taking a drag. “I guess we’re going to be up here for a long time.”

“Don’t try that reverse psychology bullshit on _me_ Gav. I’m the fucking king of reverse psychology.”

“The college boy speaks!” Gavin mock-announced, laughing at his own joke. Ryan simply rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Really? So you didn't drink half  a bottle of whisky, before marching out the door and hopping on your bike because Ray got delivered some flowers by that creepy Heyman dude?” he asked.

No reply.

“And,” Gavin continued. “You didn't drunkenly drive up here, crashing your bike in a ditch halfway up the hill, and walk the rest of the way? That didn't happen either?”

Ryan flicked ash on the floor. “I hate it when you're smart.” He grumbled.

Gavin grinned. “I have my moments.” He shrugged. “Now that I’ve impressed you with my top notch tracking skills, are you gonna let me know what’s got you all… minged off?”

Ryan sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Really?” Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Sorry if I have trouble believing that.”

Ryan turned and looked at Gavin. The two locked eyes. Gavin’s mouth hung in a limp grin, and his eyes were wide with curiosity. Gavin gave a shit, but he wasn’t fully invested. He loved Ray like a brother, Ryan knew that, but at the end of the day, with the life they led- he’d leave Ray in the dust if he had to.

He’d leave any of them. And Ryan respected that more than he could respect anything his crew did.

“He and Heyman have… history.” Ryan said.

“They banged?”

“They _dated.”_

_“Shit.”_

“I know.” Ryan sighed, tossing his cigarette off the hill. “He was acting weird since his name was mentioned. I confronted him, and found out they have a past. And I asked him if he still loved Joel.”

“And I’m guessing he said he did.”

Ryan sighed, looked to the floor and nodded once.

“Shit dude,” Gavin sighed. “That’s heavy.”

“I can’t blame him. Joel- sorry, _Heyman_ , was his first love. First… real relationship, I guess. He was eighteen when they started dating. He broke it off once Heyman started talking about starting up facilities to train gangs and mercenaries and stuff.”

“That’s the kind of shit that stays with you.” Gavin nodded.

“What do you mean?” Ryan turned, looking back at Gavin with a frown on his face.

“First love and all that, init? There’s always gonna be a small part of him that loves him. It’s natural. Don’t you remember your first love?”

Ryan leant his head back on the ‘O’ of VINEWOOD. He didn’t look to Gavin, instead, looking out across the city. He said nothing, but Gavin could see the light swell of tears in his eyes and the clench of his fist.

“Touchy subject?”

“You could say that.”

“What happened?” Gavin asked, tossing his own cigarette down the hill. Ryan rolled his head across the wood, and looked to Gavin.

“She died.” He said. “I loved her, and she died because of it.”

“There you go.” Gavin nodded. “Shit, isn’t it? But maybe now you can see how Ray feels now. He doesn’t… _love_ Joel Heyman. He just… remembers him. And remembers the love he once had for him.”

“You know, for an asshole, you can be pretty insightful sometimes.”

Gavin laughed. “I try.” He leant off the sign, and stretched once, looking to his bike.

“Come on, Rye-bread. I'll give you a lift back to 636.” He said. He looked over to Ryan who grimaced.

“You don’t wanna go back yet, do you?”

Ryan shook his head. Gavin rolled his eyes.

“Pussy. Come on, I'll let you into Michael’s apartment down in the main city.”

OoO

“No, Michael, the _red one_.”

“What _red_ one?”

“The one with the thingy on the roof!” Gavin was standing outside the apartment building, staring up to the penthouse suite that Michael owned.

“What fucking _thingy?_ ” Michael demanded.

“Oh, you know what I'm talking about!”

“No, I really don’t!”

“The _penthouse!”_

“The _red_ penthouse?”

“ _Yes!”_

“You should’ve fucking said that!”

“I _did!”_

 _“No,_ you said the red one. You didn't specify what was red, you fucking idiot!”

“Whatever.” Gavin rolled his eyes. “You know where I mean now, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I got you.”

“Ryan’s in there. He didn't want to face 636 after this morning. He told me everything though.” Gavin hopped on his bike, quickly connecting his phone to the Bluetooth in his helmet that Michael insisted he wear, after the third crash and the second scar across the back of his skull.

“What even fucking happened?”

“Relationship problems. Ray’s got history with Heyman, Ryan got jealous, that’s all. First love type situation.”

“And what the fucks that supposed to mean?”

“Means that he’s still... attached, I guess. He still sort of loves him. You know what a first love things like, Michael.”

“No, I really fucking don’t. What, do you still love fucking _Dan?”_

Gavin gritted his teeth. “That was a complete different situation, Michael and you know it. I love Dan, but not like that.”

“Right, so who _was_ your first love then?” Michael asked.

“Well, it’s you, you donut.”

“Wait- _what?”_

“It’s _you_ , are you deaf?”

“ _I’m_ your _first love?”_

“Yeah,” Gavin paused, slowing to a stop at the traffic light. “What’s so surprising about that?”

“I just… I guess I never thought…”

“That I’d never had a proper relationship before? Is that really so hard to believe Michael? I’m an asshole, remember? I’ve never had a proper _girlfriend._ Or boyfriend, for that matter.”

“Wow. You fucking _loser.”_

 _“Really_ Michael, I tell you you’re my first love, and you call me a _loser_?” Gavin laughed.

“Sorry.” Michael laughed. “I love you too. Loser.”

“Lindsay was your first, wasn’t she?” Gavin asked. Michael went quiet.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah she was.”

“And you still love her?”

“Not like-”

“-Doesn’t matter what like. You do- there’s always gonna be a part of you that loves her. And that’s okay, Michael. I understand.”

“You do?”

Gavin smiled, pulling up outside Geoff’s house. “Course I do. I love you, remember? Now I’m pretty much home. Talk to Ray, drag him over, and I’m sure he and Ryan’ll figure everything out themselves.”

“Alright. Love you Gav.”

“Love you too, boi.”

OOo

Michael stood outside Ray’s bedroom door for around a minute before he knocked. He listened to Gavin walk into the house, heading off probably to talk to Geoff or Jack, and smiled a little, just at the thought of him.

God, Gavin was good to him. Gavin was _so_ _fucking good_ to him.

But no, he didn't need to be thinking about Gavin right now. He needed to be there for Ray. Ray his stupid best friend who was having stupid relationship issues with his stupid creepy boyfriend.

He knocked loudly.

“Who is it?”

“Michael. Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Michael walked into the room. Ray was sitting in the middle of the bed, cross legged, Xbox controller in hand. He was focused on the screen, not even acknowledging Michael’s entrance, with a fat joint hanging out the corner of his mouth.

He looked like 18-months-ago Ray, who wasn’t in a relationship, and didn't have anyone to live for but himself.

“Hey.” Michael said, hesitantly.

“Hey.”

Michael walked over, and sat down beside Ray.

“What you playing?” he asked.

“Black ops.”

“Cool.”

A few moments of silence passed. Ray continued playing, reaching up from the controller only occasionally to flick the ash from the end of his joint. He offered it to Michael, who refused, as he always did. He wasn’t a drug guy; he never ever had been, unlike Gavin, who was always down to get high on what-fucking-ever, with whoever was interested. Michael tagged along more often than not, just to keep an eye on him, but he simply kept to his beer.

He’d never really been into drugs, but was absolutely sworn off them, the day he watched Ray and Gavin have what was called, ‘a bad trip’

Gavin had gotten the acid off of a suspicious guy who went by the name Sketz and had a pencil moustache. It had seemed fine at the time, to them.

But Michael was inevitably the one who had to sit with them as they cried and screamed at things that didn’t exist. It lasted for hours and was beyond exhausting. Gavin swore off acid after that. Ray still did it from time to time.

“No offence Michael, but why the fuck are you here?”

“Hm?”

“You’re sitting in silence just… watching me. It’s weird. What’s up?”

Michael sighed. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“No, I don't want to talk to Ryan.”

“Come _on.”_

“I _don’t_ want to talk to him. What's so bad about that?”

“You’re being a bitch.”

“So what if I am?” Ray tossed his controlled to the floor. The battery pack fell out, and slid across the room. Ray turned to face Michael. “So what if I’m  being a bitch? He _hurt me._ He made me feel like an asshole.”

“And now he feels _bad_!”

“And what do you fucking know? Do you even know what happened between us?”

Michael sighed. “Ryan told Gavin-”

“-And Gavin told you, right, I can paint the picture from there. Remind me never to tell Gavin anything. Thanks.”

“Just _talk_ to him?” Michael pleaded. “He feels really bad.”

“He made _me_ feel really bad. He’s not here begging for forgiveness. He hasn’t even sent me a fucking _text_ message. What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I know what you’re _not_ supposed to do!” Michael stood up. “You’re not supposed to sit here, moping about it alone whilst playing fucking Xbox and smoking dope! It’s pathetic. You love him, and he loves you, and you’ve had a fight. Believe me, from experience, I know how you feel. But you’ve got to make up. Because you and Ryan being frosty with each other, doesn’t only affect the two of you, it upsets the whole group dynamic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Michael, have I upset the fucking _group dynamic?_ Boo fucking hoo!”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Michael snapped. “Say we go on a mission, and you assholes don’t want to talk? You put _everyone_ in danger. We've got all this shit with Heyman to deal with, and I’m not gonna let you fuck up and put everyone else in danger because of your own petty shit. Because I swear to God Ray, if you don’t want to fucking fix up, and sort your shit out- I'll go.” He swallowed thickly, chest heaving. He clenched his fist tightly, and glanced to the door. “I'll take Gavin, and we’ll fucking _walk_. We’ll get Lindsay alone. We’re not doing this for ourselves, we’re doing it for _her_. And if you fuck up, and can’t get your shit together… I-I won't let you fuck it up for _us_ , and I sure as hell won't let you fuck this up for her.”

“Michael I-”

“Fucking call me or something when you sort your shit out.”

And with that, Michael left the room.

OoO

“Yeah, he’s really pissed.” Gavin leant against his bike, looking at the building he had only left around an hour beforehand. “You should’ve heard him, effing and blinding. Ray this, Ryan that. But don’t worry, he’ll come around.”

“It’s okay, it was my fault.” Ray sighed, he nervously pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. “Top floor?”

“Penthouse suite. Just tell the concierge “AH” and they’ll take you up.”

“Right.” Ray nodded, looking to the door as Gavin pulled his helmet back on. “How long’ve you had this place for, anyway?” he asked. Gavin slipped his visor up and grinned.

“A few months. Michael wanted something in the city, and I like to live expensively.” He smirked, making Ray smile.

“Never change, man.”

“I won't.” Gavin grinned. “Now go on, get your bloke. Just don’t fuck in the kitchen!”

“Gavin!” Ray blushed, but it was too late. Gavin had already hopped on his stupidly bright green bike, and sped away.

oOo

The sound of the elevator doors opening startled him, which was an odd feeling. Ryan hadn’t been startled in a long time. He turned immediately, drawing his gun and pointing it at the doors.

“Chill, dude.” Ray said. Ryan instantly relaxed, tucking his gun back into his jeans. The concierge didn’t even look alarmed, just waited for Ray to step out of the lift, before riding it back down.

“You’re awful tense.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you.” Ryan rolled his eyes, sitting back down on the couch. “What do you want, anyway?”

“Wanted to say sorry.” Ray sighed, sitting on the sofa beside Ryan. They were close, but they didn't touch, until Ray drew his knees up and crossed his legs. “Love you.” he tried, nudging his knee against Ryan’s.

Ryan sighed. “Yeah, I love you too. Asshole.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“ _I’m_ really sorry. I overreacted.”

“I shouldn’t have blanked you. Or acted so shirty about Joel in the first place.”

“I still overreacted. I shouldn’t have dragged up the past like I did it was out of line.” Ryan leant back into the sofa, turning and looking at Ray. “I had a talk with Gavin…”

“I heard.”

Ryan frowned. “How?”

“Michael. He sort of yelled at me for being an asshole about the situation. He let it slip that you and Gav talked.”

“He didn't give you a hard time, did he?” Ryan sat up. Ray shook his head.

“No. he- what he said was right, I was being stupid. I want us to make up and not be off with each other anymore.”

Ryan smiled. “I think that can be arranged.”

“You wanna hug it out, no homo?” Ray asked. Ryan’s smile turned to a grin.

“C’mere.”

Ray leant into his side, cuddling himself against Ryan’s chest, letting Ryan’s arms lock around him.

“I love you.” Ryan mumbled, kissing Ray on the head lightly.

“But Ryan, you didn't say ‘no homo’!”

“And I doubt I ever will.” Ryan laughed.

“So,” Ray leant up, so his face was close to Ryan’s. “You wanna bang in Michael and Gavin's apartment?”

“ _Absolutely”_


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the shit goes down. All of it.

Ray and Ryan returned to 636 with matching hickeys and bright smiles around four o’clock in the afternoon, looking forwards to relaxing with some food and their Xboxes with the rest of the crew, before heading up to bed.

 They were met with chaos.

Papers and maps were strung up against the wall as Jack and Gavin stared, connecting lines and dots. Michael had gloves on, pounding his fists into a boxing dummy he had dragged out of the garage, as Geoff paced and drank whisky, whilst simultaneously taking calls and shouting.

“What the fuck is this?” Ray asked.

“Heyman called. Wants to meet.” Michael explained, landing another punch into the dummy.

“Assholes, there you are! I’ve been calling!”

“Sorry.” Ryan pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling through the apparent missed calls he had from Geoff.

“I even sent a mugger after you, seeing if I could fucking find you! Better call that off I guess.” He grumbled, texting quickly on a second phone. “We’re leaving here in an hour, so get ready.”

“Fucking hell.” Ray muttered. “I better get my rifle.”

“No weapons.” Geoff said, switching between two burner phones as he read texts, whilst holding a call with his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Ryan snapped. “What do you mean _no_ weapons?”

“What do I mean by no weapons? I mean no fucking weapons! Heyman said no weapons, so we’re not bringing any weapons. You better practice your hand to hand.” Geoff shrugged. “Now fuck off, I’m on the phone.” He walked away to the corner of the kitchen.

“So what, Heyman says jump, and we ask how high?” Ryan shouted. Geoff only replied with a middle finger behind his back, as he continued his call.

“We’re gonna have to go by helicopter.” Jack explained. “It was tricky, but we got his location.”

“I helped!” Gavin grinned.

“He did.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“I’m still stuck on the ‘no weapons’ part.” Ryan unzipped his jacket, tossing is aside. “Someone run that by me again.”

“Heyman wants a fair fight, he’ll get it.” Michael said, running a towel through his hair, drying the sweat, before slamming the dummy with another punch. “And if it means getting Lindsay back, we’ll do it.”

“This is crazy!”

“I don’t care!” Michael roared. “It was _our_ fault she got caught by that sicko. _We_ have to make things right.”

Ryan sighed, shaking his head and rubbing his hands through his hair. Ray’s hand rested on his bicep lightly, and the two shared a short moment of eye contact.

“Alright. What do you need from me?”

They travelled for two hours or so, the sun slowly setting behind them and the city sky turning to light. It was almost laughable to see how close they actually were to the location Heyman had provided. Lindsay had been in touching distance the whole time. Jack flew most of the way whilst the others tried to get the rest they could, Gavin only taking over for short intervals. Ray sat with his back against Ryan’s chest, feeling the rough wind tear through his hair as Geoff slid open a window and lit up a cigarette.

“I’m pretty sure helicopter windows aren’t supposed to open.” Ryan pointed out.

“Do you want a cigarette or not?” Geoff sighed.

“Sure.” Ryan reached over, pulling out two. He placed one between Ray’s lips, and lit it with his lighter. Ray inhaled, resting his head back against Ryan, closing his eyes and hearing the click as Ryan moved the lighter to his own cigarette.

Michael sat opposite him, head resting against the pilots chair. Ray held out the packet to him, and Michael shook his head.

“Hey. You might die tonight.” Ray pointed out.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Michael said.

“I'll have one.” Gavin called from the front. Michael sighed, but picked up the packet, handing it forwards.

“Just watch, I'll live past eighty, unlike you bastards.”

Geoff laughed. “With lives like ours? You’d be one in a fucking million, Michael.”

Michael smiled. “I think I’ve got a pretty good chance.” He said. “But you’re right. Might die tonight.” He swallowed thickly, looking out the glass and down to the area below. It was secluded, mostly grassland and forest as they got further and further away from the city. It was clear what Heyman was doing. He was dragging them out of their comfort zone, taking away the familiarity of the city and drawing them out into the open.

But Michael was _always_ prepared.

 

* * *

 

Jack landed the chopper in the Helipad that had been apparently designated for them. On the landing strip, in letters visible from the sky, read a sign saying, _Welcome, Fake AH Crew!_

“Fucking bastard.” Geoff muttered under his breath, stepping out of the chopper.

“Why is everyone so _calm_?” Ryan asked. “This is clearly a _trap_ , and we have nothing to fucking defend ourselves.”

Jack sighed. “Joel’s… Joel’s always like to play things differently. He’s a little… eccentric.” He shoved his hands in his pocket, as the group advanced to what looked like an airport hanger.

“Sounds like an asshole.” Ryan huffed.

“He’s not.” Ray shook his head. “He’s just… a different kind of criminal.”

“What does he _do_?” Gavin asked. Ray shrugged.

“He’s a decent shot, okay at hand to hand… he’s more brains than braun, if that’s what you're getting at. Doesn’t like to pick a fist fight, more of a I'll-hire-an-assassin-on-you-because-you-didn't-attend-my-birthday-party kind of guy, you know?”

“Shit.” Gavin bit back a laugh, looking at the door to the carrier. “And we’re really just gonna walk in, unarmed with a psychopath like that?”

Ryan straightened his mask. “Nothing more dangerous than an unarmed psychopath.” He pointed out.

“Yeah, you’d know.” Gavin laughed. “I’m pretty glad you’re on our side, to be honest, Ryan.”

“Please, Ryan isn’t the only psychopath here.” Ray said, indignantly. Gavin narrowed his eyes, perplexed as to whom Ray was referring to. The sniper gave nothing away, however, and ignored Gavin’s questioning gaze. “But still, Ryan’s right. Joel’s _dangerous_ …”

Gavin glanced to the ground. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“We’re going.” Michael said, fists clenching. “We’re gonna go in, and get Lindsay back. I don’t care how we do it, but we’ll do it. For _her_.”

_“You know, boys, I admire your spirit.”_

The six flinched, glancing around until they saw the speaker sat above the entrance. There was a faint, rusty squeaking as the aircraft carriers doors began to swing open. It was fairly light inside, with polished white floors and steps leading up to a balcony. Below the balcony, was a set of small doors, leading further into the building.

Joel Heyman stood on top of the raised balcony, tannoy mic in hand, smiling down at them.

“Heyman.” Geoff growled.

“Geoff! Loving the moustache. How’s the wife and the kid?” Joel grinned, as Geoff’s fists clenched. “Yeah, I heard about that. Still, at least you're single!”

“Come down here and fight me like a man, you bastard.” Geoff spat. Joel rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Geoff. Aren’t we a little old for fighting?

Geoff cracked his knuckles. “You might be, but I’m sure not.”

“Shouldn’t you just leave it to the young-uns? The _lads?_ ”

“Fuck you.” Michael spat. “Cut the bullshit, and the fucking build up too, whilst you’re at it. Where’s Lindsay?” He demanded.

Joel laughed. “Lindsay, Lindsay, _Lindsay_! I’ve been listening to your conversations for weeks, and all I ever fucking hear about is Lindsay! Don’t you have _anything else_ to talk about? _Mogar?_ ”

“ _Fuck_ _you_!”

“Seriously, don’t you have any other interests past fucking your twink and busting her out? Not a sports fan?” Joel was only met with Michael’s thunderous gaze. “Jack, sort your fucking children out.” He rolled his eyes, dismissively.

“Enough Joel.” Jack sighed. “This has gone on long enough, quit with the kidding around. You know why we came here, and I don’t doubt you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve- so get on with it.”

“Alright.” Joel shrugged. He leant over the balcony, looking down at each crew member individually. His eyes drifted to Ryan, before settling on Ray.

“Hey,” he smiled, looking genuine for the first time. “Long time no see.”

Ray remained silent, and just quietly shook his head, looking down to the ground. Joel frowned, and let his eyes rest on Ray for another second before turning back to the group.

“You guys are no fun. I guess I better just… beat you then.” He shrugged.

“Yeah?” Gavin grinned. “How are you gonna do that?”

Joel smirked. “Like _this_.”

There was a whirring sound as the doors below the balcony opened, and six people walked out. They wore similar coloured outfits, and exited the doors to stand in a straight line, parallel with a crew member.

Instinctively, every person on the floor took a defensive position. Joel’s pupils weren’t yet striking though, clearly waiting for Joel’s command.

“Ray, Ryan, Jack, Geoff, Michael and Gavin… meet Kyle, Adam, Kara, Blaine, Aaron and Jordan.”

“What kind of sick-”

“ _FIGHT!”_

They all advanced at once, in a futile attempt to catch the crew off guard. Nobody in the Fake AH Crew was an idiot, they all knew how the agents Joel had lined up were probably specially trained, where they were most certainly not.

But Ryan had been living off mindless violence for almost his entire life. Adam was much bigger than him, with even crazier eyes than his own and some impressive facial hair, but Ryan could easily hold his own. If anything, it was the most enjoyable part of his day so far, really tearing into the hunk of flesh that stood threat before him. It gave him an odd satisfaction that he had accepted a long time ago.

Ray had never been one for direct combat, but he knew the basics. He could immediately sense the favouritism put on him most likely by Joel, as he could hear the agonizing groans and cries of beyond fair fights around him, where it felt like _Kyle_ was only toying with him, or sparring. The guy had probably been instructed not to hurt him, but Ray wasn’t ready to play by those rules.

Jack had never been a fighter, full stop. He was always the guy behind the scenes, never involved in the main event. When he saw what was most likely less than a hundred pound _girl_ with short blonde hair marching towards him, he stupidly expected he had been let off easy. The first hook to his jaw had made it clear he hadn’t been. _Kara_ was a fighter, that was clear, and didn't mind skipping the rules. She used her small size to her advantage, hoisting herself up on top of Jack, attacking him from above. Jack had never been a violent person, and fighting wasn’t his bag, but he knew, at that point that he had no choice, and used his own weight to his advantage, grabbing her by the arms, flipping her over and slamming her into the floor.

Geoff had been in his fair share of brawls round the back alleys of bars, hopped up on alcohol to keep him feeling invincible. Jack hadn’t let him touch a drop since they left, but the whiskey from that morning was burning in his stomach and translating through to his fists. The first hit from _Blaine_ , the obviously skilled, well-built man in front of him almost felt good, dislodging a loose tooth. He smirked, clearly pleased with what he'd done. Geoff simply spat the tooth out, licked the blood off his lips and smiled, before loosening his bow-tie. He’d been waiting for this for a long time.

Gavin had never been a very co-ordinated person. He wasn’t fists and muscle like Michael or Ryan, he was much slighter, with wild gangly limbs that never really co-operated with his body. Thankfully, his counterpart _Jordan_ seemed much the same, and also a little sheepish when it came to the fight. His swings were weak but accurate, allowing Gavin enough time to dart away and counteract. He’d never been in a proper fight before, but before long, the need to control and _win_ the event was too strong, and he felt the bloodlust settle in. One punch for Michael and two for Geoff, a firm grasp at the throat for little Ray and a bite on the neck for Lindsay. Gavin grinned around the blood dripping from his lips and staining his teeth, not even giving himself a moment to contemplate his actions. Maybe he should’ve fought more often.

Fighting, for Michael, was more than natural. It had mostly come from growing up in New Jersey with only brothers, followed by wrestling competitions before he was officially signed off for misconduct, followed by completely _un-official_ fights in underground boxing rings. He'd had his fair share of concussions and knocked out teeth. He was born to fight, it was an un-healthy expression of his own anger, and he was used to it. _Aaron_ seemed much the opposite, more chilled out, and lazy with his moves. He didn't feel the emotion that Michael felt, not even close. Michael stepped back, and looked at Aaron’s smirk. _Give_ _up_ , it seemed like he was saying _you’re never going to win this._

And then, all Michael saw was red.

He was the last one up, still fighting, fists pounding into Aaron’s bloody face as he ripped him by the collar. His head hung limply from his neck, and it didn't take a doctor to tell him that Aaron was dead.

“Michael.” Gavin panted, squatting down beside him. “You can stop now.”

Michael dropped Aaron, hearing the satisfying _thunk_ of his head on the ground. He looked around behind him. His crew, still _alive_ , with more than a few cuts and bruises covering them. Behind them, a pile of bodies.

“Are they dead?” Michael asked.

“Most of them are just unconscious.” Came Joel’s voice. “But a few of your crewmates,” he looked pointedly at Gavin, who had blood still dripping from his lips, “Were particularly… _bloodthirsty **.”**_ Michael snarled, and Joel smiled. “Easy doggy. I admit, I wasn’t expecting your bite to be as tough as your bark.”

“I'll fucking kill-”

“Kill me? I’d _pay_ to see that.”

“Enough, Joel.” Ray sighed, stepping forwards. “Fucking stop this. You brought us here because you wanted us here. You wanted us to fight your fucking _students_ or whatever. Nothing in this situation has ever been out of your control-”

“- _Ray”_

 _“-_ No!” Ray snapped. “I _know you_ , remember. Fuck, until today, I still _loved_ you. But I can't do it anymore Joel, I won't do it. Look at what you’ve done! You’ve got people, _dead_ for no reason other than the fact that you were bored. Be fucking ashamed of yourself, and take some fucking responsibility.”

“It isn’t like that, Ray I-”

“Then what’s it fucking like?” Ray laughed. Joel was silent. “What is this all about?”

“Ray, I still-”

“We’re _over_ , Joel. We’ve been over for a long time.” Ray sighed, glancing behind him to Ryan. “I’ve moved on.”

“Ray, we can start again- you and me… just like we were.” Joel pleaded. “I can change. We can fix things.”

“There’s nothing too fix!” Ray shouted. “We’re over. We’re _done_!”

“Is that what this was all about?” Geoff shouted up. “All of this, just so you could try and fucking win him back? This is bullshit!”

“It wasn’t just that.” Joel sighed.

“Then what?!” Everyone looked around to Ryan, who pulled off his mask. He had a split lip and a black eye, but nothing too serious. “Why do all this?”

Joel leant over the balcony, head in his hands. “I-fifteen years ago.” He looked up, and looked to Jack. “Fifteen years ago. That’s what this is about.”

“Joel, what are you talking about?”

“Fifteen years ago!” he yelled, voice echoing off the empty room. “We met up, in a bar. Me, you and Geoff. And-and I had this idea, of starting a crew…”

“Joel-”

“No! You told me that I was crazy! That it could never work. I told you about how- how we could have a house in Los Santos. House 636! Like the _three of  us_ dreamed of!”

“Geoff… what’s he saying?” Gavin asked. Geoff looked down at the ground, and frowned.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to them!” Joel roared. Geoff looked up.

“I _don’t_ _know_ what you're talking about.”

“You're a _liar._ It was _my_ idea to start the Fake AH Crew. And you stole that right away from under my nose. Before I knew it, you'd packed your shit and left withou so much as a fucking phonecall. You moves to Los Santos and built your reputation whilst I was struggling in New York to keep my life together? You started a crew of your own, recruited my fucking ex and his new toy, along with a few strays off the streets! And I thought we were still a fucking _team_.”

“You want to know the truth?” Jack asked. Joel’s neck snapped towards him. “You were too dangerous, Joel. You were a _liability_. We could never have started a crew with you, because you simply didn't fit the bill. Instead, we scooped up a bunch of fucked up kids from the street, because it was a damn lot easier than keeping you around, alright?”

The room was silent as everyone absorbed Jack’s words. Jack was a good man, the best really, out of them all. He never lied or shouted or went out of his way to be _mean_.

Which left them all, with the cold hard truth.

Jack took a deep breath, before turning back to the crew. “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I’m sorry that you guys were the second choice.”

Nobody said anything. Jack turned back to Joel.

“So, that’s why you did it then? Jealousy? You got to us, through Lindsay.”

“Through _Michael_.” Joel muttered.

“What?” Geoff straightened, glaring up at Joel.

“Once I heard you started a crew, I had to assess every member. I know it _all_ , every nook and cranny. Every bad and good thing any of you have ever done. I knew Michael was the weakest link, so I got to him through his girl. The rest was… a domino effect, I suppose.”

Joel spoke like a true psychopath, but the egotistical glee was paled from his eyes. He looked… deflated, like a balloon that Jack had slowly let the air out of with his harsh words.

“You’re a liar.” Michael spat. “I’m not _weak_ , you’re a _liar.”_

 _“Michael.”_ Geoff raised a hand up, stopping Michael from marching forwards. He looked into his eyes. “He’s right. And you know it.”

Michael swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. “ _Stop_ it.”

“He’s right.” Geoff matched Michael’s low tone. “You’re the weakest, you’ve always been the weakest.” He sighed. “Look around, Michael- each one of us, we could turn and we could walk at the drop of a hat.” Michael stood back, looking around at his crewmates, all who’s eyes were fixated anywhere but his own. “Even _Gav._ ” Michael turned to Gavin, the only one brave enough to keep eye contact. He had dried blood crusting at his chin from where he had almost ripped t Jordan's throat out, before leaving him in ahead to pass out from the blood loss.

“He loves you, I'm not saying he doesnt...but if he had to, he’d leave.”

Michael stayed looking at Gavin. There was a pause, before the British moron he loved simply nodded his head.

“I hate you all.” Michael whispered.

“No you don’t.” Gavin sighed. He looked back up to Michael. “And that’s your problem Michael. You _love_ us too much.”

“That’s not true-”

“You know it is.”

Michael turned back up to Joel, tears welling in his eyes. “You bastard,” he growled, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out the knife he had snuck in. Michael didn't have honour, not anymore. He had grown out of that in the basement of a bar, surrounded by spectators as he pummelled the face of another skinny pale teen with hair as wild as his. Michael was always prepared to fight dirty.

He could’ve tried and failed to run right up there and stab Joel Heyman in the gut. He could’ve tossed the knife to Ryan or Ray, knowing that they could throw it up there and embed it right in Joel's wrinkle-free forehead. Even Gavin could scale the scaffolding of the balcony, make it quick and easy. Jack or Geoff could probably easily hit him from there or at least do some damadge.

But not Michael. He didn't have the finessed skill that any other crew mate had.

“Fuck this.” he muttered under his breath, sniffing back the tears he could feel welling up in his eyes. He tossed the knife to the other side of the room where it his the wall with a clang, before falling to the floor. “Fuck _you_.”

Then, there was a click. Michael turned, to see Ryan, gun in hand. There was a pause, where every pair of eyes in the room swivelled to Ryan, watching as he targeted the gun on Joel with undoubtedly steel-tipped accuracy.

Even Joel himself was fixated, staring into Ryan’s blue eyes with his own wild, dark ones. _Do it,_ he silently dared, _kill me._

Ryan didn't care if it was what Joel wanted. If it was what he deserved. He knew his sense of right and wrong maybe didn't coincide with anyone else’s. But he knew a few things.

One, Gavin was a psychopath. And Joel Heyman had only brought that fact into light. It only took Joel Heyman and a human target to bring it out. Ryan knew exactly what Gavin was going to have to admit to when they got out of there.

Two, Michael was weak. He was the weakest member of the group, and a borderline liability. His fall from grace had been guaranteed from the moment he stepped into the room.

Three, Jack Pattillo, maybe the softest criminal he knew, had almost committed a murder with his fists alone. He didn't need to look back at Kara’s bruised body to see what Jack was capable of.

Four, Geoff was a liar. But… they had all known that from the beginning.

Five, Ray. He loved _Ray_ , and Ray loved him back, equally. Ray didn't love Joel. Not anymore. Ray was _his_ , now and forever, and nothing was ever going to change that. There was only room for one psychopath in Ray’s world, and that was _him._

 _“_ There was one thing you didn't count on.” He said quietly, eyes locking with Joel’s. “Another psychopath in the room.”

Joel smiled, a sick, twisted grin. “I knew. I knew you couldn’t resist sneaking a weapon in either.” He said. “I know you’re a psychopath Ryan, that much is clear to see.  But do you know what else you are?”

Ryan gritted his teeth. “What?” he asked. “What am I?”

Joel's eyes sparkled. The rest of the crew froze. They knew how this would go- Joel would taunt and taunt and buy himself enough time to escape. Ryan would be so angry with himself for missing his chance, he'd leave and go on a killing spree.

Joel Heyman knew how to push all the right buttons, and Ryan Haywood was like a switchboard.

“You are a  _coward.”_

Ryan didn't even blink as he pulled the trigger, and then dropped the gun as he watched the bullet embed itself in Joel’s skull.

The gun hitting the ground echoed, and Joel’s body fell forwards, torso dangling over the railing. Ryan rolled his shoulders, clicking his neck.

“Lindsay’s through the back. I called Kerry a few days ago, did some apologising. She was moved here a few days ago, with one other person, according to him. Let’s go get her, and let’s leave.”

And for once, everyone simply listened to him. They gathered themselves, wiped the blood off their faces, and walked, one by one out of the room, knowing their lives were never again going to be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments make me smile, so thanks if you leave/have already left one. This isn't the end for the Fake AH Crew yet, there's still one more chapter and then an Epilogue that'll be posted next week. Love to all you readers<3
> 
> Thanks.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end, but it's never really the end. Not for them.

The room they came to was empty. Arryn stood in the centre, blood dripping from her back and he face, dress ripped and hair messy. She panted, her back to them as they entered the room.

The noise of the door caused her to turn.           

“You’re too late.” She said. “Lindsay’s dead.”

“Where is she?” Michael asked quietly.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time?” she sneered.

 “She isn’t dead… she- she’s not. I don’t believe you.”

“She’s _dead_.” Arryn repeated. “Believe whatever the fuck you want. She’s _dead.”_

 _“_ Heyman’s dead.” Ryan said. Arryn frowned.

“ _You’re_ lying.”

“Come with us.” Geoff interrupted. Everyone looked to him.

“ _What_?”

“Come with us.” He outstretched his hand. “You don’t have to live like this anymore. Heyman is dead. Know that I’m not lying to you when I say that. Come with us, and we’ll get you out of here.”

Arryn looked down at the space between them where Geoff’s hand sat. She looked at the tattoos covering his knuckles and creeping up his hand, up the ripped arm of his tuxedo, and then, to his face.

Her eyes locked with his, and she _scowled_.

“Fuck _you.”_

She took off in a run, past them and out of the room. Geoff sighed, taking his hand and rubbing it across his face.

“You don’t think she was telling the truth, do you?” Gavin asked. Geoff shrugged.

“I don’t know… I- there’s nowhere else to look. This is the last room in this place.”

“There’s gotta be somewhere else.” Michael said. “She _has_ to be somewhere.”

“Unless she was never here in the first place.” Ray shrugged.

“What?”

“Joel could’ve been lying.” Ray shrugged.

“But Kerry-”

“Kerry could’ve been wrong.” Ryan sighed. “She’s not here, Michael.”

“So what,” Michael laughed bitterly. “All this, was for nothing? We came here, for nothing?”

“She’s not here.” Ryan repeated. “If there's a chance she’s still alive, at least we know she’s safe, with Heyman dead. Look at me Michael.” He stepped forwards, grabbing Michael by the hair and pulling his face upwards from where his disappointed gaze was casted. “She’s safe. And when she’s ready to see us, she’ll come find us.”

He let go, and stepped back, moving to link his hand with Ray’s, the two making their way out of the room, followed by Jack. Geoff watched as Gavin moved towards Michael, and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“Come on, boi. Let’s go home, yeah?” he asked. Michael nodded silently, and followed Geoff out of the room.

* * *

 

The journey back to 636 was agonizingly slow, for Michael more than anyone. On the surface, it went much the same as the journey there. Gavin and Jack flew in front, Geoff, Ryan and Ray smoked cigarettes in the back. Michael observed.

But there weren’t the playful jokes about their chances of dying, either from the cigarettes the others were burning through or the imposing threat of Joel Heyman. Michael didn't complain about the window being open, humid air of Los Santos flying in his face, strong enough to ripple his cheeks slightly.

Ray looked up from where he sat on the floor to Michael, and the two locked eyes for a moment. Ray looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, chose to stay quiet. Michael looked away.

He watched the ticking clock of Geoff’s smashed watch for the rest of the journey.

After the helicopter ride, there was the short journey in the crew mobile back to the house. At first, Michael had slipped into the driver’s seat, but upon seeing how shaky his hands were as he clutched the wheel, Ryan offered to take over.

Michael slipped into the passenger seat, and rested his head against the cool glass of the window. Behind him, Gavin said his name quietly. He turned around, but neither of the pair could find the words to explain how they were felt in the moment. After a few moments of prolonged eye contact, Gavin awkwardly looked away.

Michael continued to rest his head on the window, and spent the rest of the journey gazing out onto the city streets of Los Santos, as Ryan took them home.

Geoff let them into the house, and one by one they quietly filed in. Geoff discarded his ripped tuxedo jacket onto the floor, and sighed heading towards the kitchen with the others behind him.

“I don’t know about you assholes, but I need a fucking drink.” He sighed.

“Me too,” Jack agreed.

“I could go for a beer,” Gavin was oddly chipper, pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head. Michael stood a considerable distance away from him, expression unreadable. Ray was also silent, but that was hardly new.

“What about you Ryan?” Geoff asked, beginning to walk into the kitchen.

“Nah,” Ryan shook his head. “I’m never drinking again. Can’t stand the stuff.”

Ray looked up at Ryan, and caught his eye. For a moment, Ryan could almost see a smile on Ray’s face. It fell quickly enough, but that was okay, because Ray’s skinny tanned fingers crept over to his own calloused and thick ones, and held on tightly.

Ryan drew Ray’s hand up to his lips, and kissed it softly, just as the sound of glass smashing came from the kitchen.

Immediately, they were all on edge, fists clenched and ready to brawl, as they ran into the kitchen. Whatever intruder decided to break in on that particular day was sure as hell in for some bad luck.

“Whoa, guys, calm the fuck down.”

Michael ran forwards, almost as if he was going to grab Lindsay in a tight embrace, before he stopped himself, skidding on his feet right in front of her. She was different, again, with slightly shorter hair and a few cuts and bruises across her face. However this time, she grinned and her eyes lit up in a way he hadn’t seen in too long.

“Lindsay.” He breathed.

“It’s okay,” she laughed quietly. “I’m okay, I’m here.”

“Oh God, _Lindsay_!” Michael grabbed her, pulling her into a tight hug, which she gladly returned, burying her face into Michael’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m here too!”

Everyone turned from the heart-warming scene to see a blond sitting at the breakfast bar, eating a banana.

“And who the fuck are you?” Geoff asked. She smiled.

“I’m Barbara, _peel-eased_ to meet you.” she laughed at her own joke. The rest of the crew were silent.

“The banana? Peel? Hey, come on guys!” she waved the banana in the air, trying to elicit a response. The crew continued to be silent. “Guys?”

“Sorry about her.” Lindsay said. “She’s decent with a knife but _awful_ when it comes to puns.”

“Hey!”

“Uh, nice to meet you… Barbara?” Jack said awkwardly, walking towards the fridge. “I’m guessing you're Lindsay’s friend?”

“We broke out together.”

“Broke _out_?” Ryan asked. Lindsay nodded.

“We’d been… planning for a while, and escape. Just so happened that you guys were planning a jailbreak. With Heyman completely focused on fucking with you, the only person we had to get past was Arryn. Wasn’t too difficult.” She shrugged, taking a beer of the counter, and taking a swig.

“You're meaning to say, this _whole time_ , you were gonna _break out_?” Geoff asked. Lindsay laughed and nodded. “Fucking great. Couldn’t have said anything? Not a, _hey guys, don’t worry about risking your lives and sanity to break me out, I’m on my way home.”_

“I couldn’t exactly send a _text_ Geoff. Just be glad we made it out.”

“I am.” Geoff smiled, leaning forwards to pull Lindsay in for a hug. “Glad to have you back, Linds.”

“Glad to be back.” Lindsay smiled. “I actually missed you assholes. Even you, Gavin.”

Gavin grinned. “Believe me, I missed you more!”

They carried on for a while, trading stories and nursing beers over Geoff’s kitchen counter. Michael was oddly quiet, but nobody questioned it. After a while, he leant into Lindsay and asked quietly into her ear, “Can we talk, alone, outside?”

She smiled. “Sure Michael.”

* * *

 

The night was cool enough for Michael to zip his brown leather jacket up, hands awkwardly sitting in his pockets. Lindsay had a black jacket on, but the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. She didn't seem cold at all.

Lindsay looked up to the stars in the sky, and smiled. “Do you ever tell Gavin, about the constellations up there?” she asked. “You used to talk to me about them for hours… I was never really that into astronomy but… you made it interesting.”

“I tell him, sometimes.” Michael replied. “Half the time he probably thinks I’m talking shit but… it’s worth it, to see that light in his eyes.”

“I’m glad you two are okay. You were fighting last time I was here, weren’t you?” she asked. Michael swallowed.

“I-That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

Lindsay narrowed her eyebrows. “What is it, Michael?”

“I-Gavin and I were fighting because… because of something that happened… between me and you.”

“You and _me?”_

“Yeah.” Michael nodded. “I… uh… about two years ago, I was working a job, solo. Afterwards I went to a bar for a drink and… you were there.”

_“Well hello stranger.”_

_Michael turned as he heard a familiar voice behind him, placing his beer down on the counter. Lindsay stood before him, in a bright red dress that made her skin glow, and a wicked grin on her face._

_“Alright… don’t stare. How’s about you buy me a drink?”_

“I’m sorry Lindsay but… I- we were drunk that night. Both of us were… and- I don’t know why but… I… I kissed you. And then you kissed me back, and before I knew what was going on we were driving back to a hotel room and… well… you probably get the picture.”

“Michael- I… we didn't, we- I don’t remember ever-”

“Heyman fucking…. He ‘made you forget’, apparently. I don’t know how but he did. I cheated on Gavin that night Lindsay and… I’ve been paying for it ever since. It wasn’t fair to him, and it really wasn’t fair to you… and then, last time you were here, I tried to apologise but… I guess now I understand why you were looking at me like I was fucking _crazy_.” Michael laughed quietly, bitterly almost. Lindsay was silent.

“So I’m sorry, okay?” Michael said. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It-it’s okay.” Lindsay said quietly. She looked up from the floor, to Michael’s eyes. “I-Gavin… he doesn’t hate me, does he?”

“I think he did, for a while… but soon he realised that it wasn’t just your fault. It was mine- I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you, I wasn’t even that drunk and I… I was in the wrong. He forgives you, Lindsay. And he’s starting to forgive me too.”

Michael and Lindsay both glanced back towards the house, where they could see Gavin, laughing as Geoff grabbed him, pushing him down onto the floor. Michael wiped a tear that he didn't realise had formed from his eye.

“And I need you to forgive me too.”

“Michael, it wasn’t your fault, I shouldn’t-”

“ _Please,_ ” Michael pleaded. “Just say it, Lindsay. Forgive me, for hurting you.”

“Okay.” Lindsay said, her voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper. “I forgive you.”

* * *

 

 

EPILOUGE

“You guys know that you’re more than welcome to stay here, right?”

Lindsay nodded. “I know, Geoff but… I think I’ve gotta go play catch-up with the rest of the world. Been kept in captivity for too long, if you get what I mean?”

Geoff nodded. “Yeah, I understand. But you’re still welcome anytime, okay? Just one call, you’ve got a set of keys.”

Lindsay grinned, before leaning forwards and hugging Geoff tightly. “I know Geoff, and thank you, so much.”

“No problem, kiddo. I’m gonna miss you.”

“Where are you gonna head first?” Ryan asked. Lindsay looked to Barbara, who shrugged.

“I don’t know.” She said. “Maybe Washington… I hear there’s a lot of work around Washington this time of year. Barb needs some real field experience.”

“Oh, I know a guy up in dc. I'll send you his number!”

Barbara grinned widely. “Thanks Jack! And thanks, all of you- I'll add you all on Xbox live!”

“Looking forwards too it.” Gavin smiled.

“Hey, and if you’re ever in New York, make sure you go to-”

“The arcade down the back alley behind the McDonalds, got it.” Lindsay smiled. “Thanks Ray.”

Lindsay and Barbara shrugged on their backpacks and began to head out the door, where a car was already waiting for them on the driveway.

“An Adder?” Lindsay exclaimed, eyes wide with shock.

“And it’s _pink_! I love it!” said Barbara.

Michael tossed the keys in Lindsay’s direction. “ _And_ it’s got the crew logo on the bumper. Doesn’t matter how far you get, you’re still one of us, okay?”

Lindsay grinned. “Thank you, Michael. I'll see you around, yeah? Maybe we’ll both be looking up at those stars.”

Michael smiled, as he felt Gavin’s hand creep into his. He held on tightly, giving it a firm squeeze. “I'll be counting on it.” He said, quietly.

Lindsay climbed into the driver’s seat as Barbara threw their bags in the back. Lindsay revved the engine once, before winding down the window just as Barbara slipped in the passenger seat.

“Do we look badass or what?” Lindsay asked with a grin, slipping her dark sunglasses on.

“Like Bonnie and Clyde… if Clyde was also a girl, I guess.” Ryan said. Lindsay laughed, before starting the engine properly, and turning the wheel to steer out of the driveway.

“See you round, losers!”

“Come visit soon!” Geoff called, voice cracking. Lindsay nodded, and Barbara waved, before the pair sped off, heading away from the house.

“God, it’s like having a kid leave for college or something.” Jack said, as Geoff closed the door.

oOo

Following Lindsay and Barbara’s departure the crew went off into their own separate wings of the house. Ryan and Ray retreated upstairs, like they always did, a lit cigarette in between Ray’s lips before Ryan could even open the bedroom door.

The room was silent, once Ryan closed it behind them. Ray had barely said a word to him since they returned to 636. There was something off between them, and going by all that had gone on in the last day, Ryan didn't need three guesses.

“It’s Joel, isn’t it?” he asked, breaking the silence. “You’re mad, because I killed him.”

“I’m not mad.” Ray leant against the wall, looking to the ground. “I don’t know how I feel, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan replied, walking forwards so he could stand in front of Ray, close, but not yet touching. “He… he was a big part of your life, and it must be… difficult knowing that I killed him.”

“He deserved it.” Ray muttered.

“No,” Ryan shook his head. “All he was doing was playing a game. I just got mad because I was losing. Nobody deserves death over that.”

Ray smirked, and Ryan playfully raised an eyebrow. “What?” he asked, hands settling onto Ray’s waist. “What’s so funny.”

“You,” Ray replied. “Getting all self-righteous and feeling guilty.”

“Yeah, I feel guilty. So what?” Ryan asked. Ray huffed, smirk still sat on his face.

“You still lost Ryan. Just because you killed Joel, doesn’t mean you won the game. You _conceded_ it.” He said. Ryan stiffened, as Ray continued. “Joel was always playing games, Ry, it’s all he ever did. If he had truly wanted us dead, we wouldn’t still be here. If he wanted to be alive right now, he would be.”

“So what are you saying?” Ryan asked. Ray sighed.

“What I’m saying, is, no matter how dirty you play- no matter how much you think you know all the plays and all the cheats, Joel’s always got a straight flush. He _always_ wins.”

Ray slipped out from Ryan’s arms, and stumped his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray, before stripping off his clothes, and climbing into bed, leaving Ryan by the wall with a dumbstruck look on his face.

“You don’t think he’s still alive, do you?” Ryan asked. “I-I shot him straight through the head.”

“Joel Heyman is dead.” Ray said bluntly, laying on his side and slipping his glasses off.

“But just because your quarterback is out for a season, doesn’t mean you don’t have a sub to take his place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed Gun's N' Roses Ily all, and a huge thanks for all the commenters and kudos givers! Like I said in the summary, its never really the end for the Fake AH Crew. I'm not promising anything but there could be a part three in the future, who knows? Also, I'm thinking about maybe doing some mini-drabbles that exist in the same universe, so drop a comment with anything you might like to see from that. As you've probably noticed this is a combination of the last chapter and the epilogue just because it wasn't super long so I thought combining them would be easier.  
> Thanks.


	7. A Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been doing a lot of notes recently? I should really stop.

So after I finished this series, I left a little note saying that I'd be down to maybe do a drabble series in the GNR universe. I'm still down for that, but I've just been focusing on other fics right now, and I've just not had that stroke of inspiration I guess.

So I'll open it up to you, as a reader.

If you have something you'd like to see, (Past Ray/Joel, Pre-GNR2 Ray/Ryan, Mavin, Juggey, whatever) drop the pairing and a situation/prompt in the comments of this fic, and I'll try and get around to it!

Looking forward to hearing some prompts.

 

Thanks<3


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